LIBRARY 

UN»V"'   TV  OP 
i-  *><>  J«N»A 
SAN  DIEQO 


setf 

DC 

111*.  I 

.017. 


JOSEPHINE,  EMPRESS  OF  THE  FRENCH. 


Copyright,  fS^, 
BY  FREDERICK  A.  OBER. 

A II  Rights  Reserved. 


CONTENTS. 


I.     Island  of  Martinique 1 

II.    Her  first  Decade 9 

III.  The  Great  Hurricane 17 

IV.  The  Carib  Prophetess 25 

V.    At  Diamond  Kock 33 

VI.    La  Belle  Creole 44 

VII.     The  Picnic  at  the  Carbet  Peaks 55 

VIII.     First  Loves  of  Josephine 66 

IX.     The  Voyage  to  France 77 

X.     The  Bride  of  Beauharnais 87 

XI.     Martinique  Revisited 99 

XII.     A  Loyal  Son  of  France 113 

XIII.  Terror  the  Order  of  the  Day 130 

XIV.  In  the  Shadow  of  Death 144 

XV.     Madame  Tallien  and  the  Directory  156 

XVI.    General  Bonaparte 167 

XVII.    Marriage  of  Josephine  and  Napoleon 184 

XVIII.    The  Italian  Campaign 202 

XIX.    The  Little  House,  Rue  Chantereine 217 

XX.    Napoleon's  Love-Letters 234 


IV  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXI.     Bonaparte  in  Egypt ". 249 

XXII.     The  Consulate 270 

XXIII.  Your  Majesty 297 

XXIV.  Austerlitz  to  Wagram * ...  325 

XXV.     Portents  of  Disaster 343 

XXV.     Divorce 360 

XXVII.     Navarre  and  Malmaison 384 

XXVIII.    Elba  and  Fontainebleau 395 

XXIX.    Death  of  Josephine 408 

XXX.    In  Retrospect 420 

Appendix 435 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Josephine,  Empress  of  the  French Frontispiece. 

FACING    PAGE. 

Map  of  the  Caribbean  Sea 2 

Map  of  the  Island  of  Martinique 8 

Birthplace  of  Josephine 10 

The  Sucrerie 22 

Diamond  Eock 40 

The  Ancienne  Cuisine .- 54 

Riviere  Madame,  Fort  de  France 74 

A  Waterfall  near  Josephine's  Birthplace 96 

Statue  of  Josephine,  Fort  de  France 110 

The  Traveler's  Tree  and  Shrine 114 

Bonaparte,  First  Consul 168 

Eugenie  Desiree  Clary 200 

Josephine  in  1796 250 

Napoleon  at  Malmaison 300 

Little  Church  at  Trois  Ilets 350 

Josephine,  by  Prud'hon 400 

Marriage  Register  of  Josephine's  Parents 434 


JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  I.  . 

ISLAND  OF  MARTINIQUE. 

A  TROPICAL  morning  of  the  year  1762. 

As  the  sun  rose  from  the  Atlantic,  he  found  a 
green  and  rugged  island  interposed  between  him- 
self and  the  Caribbean  Sea :  a  chain  of  wrinkled 
hills,  with  summits  wreathed  in  vapory  clouds. 
This  verdant  mountain-mass  was  Martinique,  one  of 
the  fairest  of  those  many  isles  that  lie,  crescent-like, 
between  the  ocean  of  storms  and  sea  of  calms. 

One  day  far  distant,  in  the  age  of  fire,  it  had  been 
upheaved  from  slimy  ocean-depths  ;  its  primal  rocks 
for  centuries  had  been  beaten  upon  by  tropic  sun, 
and  washed  in  torrential  rains  ;  slowly,  during  eons 
of  time  it  had  gathered  the  garment  of  verdure 
now  enwrapping  it.  Heat  and  moisture,  the  great 
alchemists,  had  combined  to  prepare  its  soil  for  the 
reception  and  retention  of  the  seeds  and  germs 
of  plant-life,  brought  hither  by  birds,  by  the  winds 
that  swept  its  surface.  Thus  the  deep  and  gloomy 


2  JOSEPHINE. 

valleys,  the  sloping  hillsides,  even  the  mountain- 
summits,  were  covered  with  carpets  of  emerald  em- 
bossed with  flowers  and  trees. 

How  many  ages  it  lay  there,  desolate,  between 
shining  sea  and  gloomy  ocean, — who  can  tell  ?  No 
one  knows  when  the  primogenial  life  began  : — the 
first  flutter  of  wings,  the  primitive  pulse-beat  of 
sentient  organisms.  .  .  .  But  one  day  this  paradise 
was  invaded  by  aboriginal  man,  who  may  have 
reached  it  drifting  upon  a  giant  tree,  wrenched  from 
some  forest  by  the  hurricane,  or  in  a  rude  canoe, 
hewn  from  cedar  or  ceiba. 

We  have  reasons  for  believing  that  he  came  from 
the  south,  from  the  region  of  the  Orinoco,  or  the 
Amazons  ;  but  we  only  know  that  this  man  found 
by  Europeans  in  possession  of  the  Caribbees,  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  fifteenth  century,  was  of  a  type 
then  unknown  in  the  Old  World,  and  called  Indian. 

Columbus  found  here,  in  the  last  decade  of  that 
century  which  gave  America  into  the  keeping  of 
civilized  man,  the  Carib  cannibals.  So  fierce  were 
these  barbarous  Indians,  so  warlike,  so  active  in  the 
defense  of  their  homes  and  hunting-grounds,  that 
for  many  years  after  the  so-called  discovery,  the 
island  remained  in  their  possession.  Then  the 
French  adventurers  colonized  it  :  the  sea-rovers  and 
buccaneers,  attracted  by  the  beauty  and  fertility  of 
the  island.  The  Caribs  were  gradually  driven  back 
from  the  coast-lands  to  the  mountain  valleys,  fi- 
nally disappearing  altogether.  The  French  planters 
prospered,  their  estates  covered  the  lowlands  ;  their 


MAP  OF  THE  CARIBBEAN  SEA. 


JOSEPHINE.  3 

slaves,  imported  from  Africa,  multiplied  to  a  great 
population ;  their  prosperity  attracted  the  atten- 
tionof  their  enemies.  .  .  .  During  that  long  and 
bloody  struggle  for  supremacy  between  France  and 
England,  their  colonial  possessions  suffered  infin- 
itely more  than  the  home  countries.  The  scene  of 
conflict  was  shifted  from  sea  to  sea,  from  ocean  to 
ocean.  Finally,  having  already  colonized  or  taken 
by  force  many  of  the  choicest  Caribbean  islands,  the 
English  fell  upon  Martinique. 

It  was  too  rich  a  country  to  escape  their  clutches  ; 
their  fleet  approached  its  shores  ;  the  whole  island 
was  alarmed  ;  planters  and  slaves,  alike  animated  by 
patriotic  sentiment,  hastened  to  its  defense. 

A  morning  in  January,  1762.  .  .  .  Upon  the 
summit  of  a  hill  overlooking  the  deep  bay  of  Fort 
Eoyal,  stood  a  fair  and  delicate  woman  about 
twenty-five  years  of  age.  She  was  the  center  of  a 
group  of  female  slaves,  who  were  regarding,  as  anx- 
iously as  she,  the  scene  spread  out  before  them. 
The  deep  valley  at  their  feet  was  filled  with  shadows  ; 
a  peaked  morne  cast  its  black  counterpart  across  the 
intervening  vale,  and  aslant  the  hill  on  which  they 
stood.  The  morning  air  was  cool  and  sweet ;  it 
breathed  of  naught  but  peace  ;  yet,  across  the  bay, 
less  than  four  miles  away,  arose  the  smoke  of  con- 
flict. The  English  fleet  had  approached  the  shore  ; 
the  grim  walls  of  Fort  Saint-Louis,  bristling  with 
guns,  were  sending  forth  a  storm  of  shot  ;  boats 
from  the  fleet  were  striving  for  a  landing.  At  first 
they  were  repelled  by  the  gallant  islanders,  but 


4  JOSEPHINE. 

eventually  were  successful.  Then  the  great  wooden 
ships,  hitherto  silent,  replied  to  the  cannonade  from 
the  fort,  and  a  pall  of  smoke  hid  the  scene  from 
view. 

The  white  watcher  fell  to  the  ground  and  covered 
her  eyes  with  her  hands  ;  her  servants  gathered 
around  her.  Silent  and  trembling,  they  awaited  the 
lifting  of  the  cloud  '  that  hid  the  fort.  An  hour 
passed,  and  another  ;  the  shadows  shortened  on  the 
hill ;  a  faint  sea-breeze  drifted  by  them.  The  can- 
nonading had  ceased,  the  cloud  of  smoke  was  dissi- 
pated by  the  breeze.  The  woman  rose  to  her  feet 
and  strove  to  penetrate  the  mists  that  still  clung 
about  the  farther  hills.  She  started,  gasped,  looked 
again,  and  then  fell  into  the  supporting  arms  of  her 
attendants.  .  .  . 

Above  the  fort  no  longer  waved  the  Lilies  of 
France ! 

Slowly  and  sorrowfully  the  little  group  descended 
the  hill,  to  the  plantation -house  at  its  foot,  there  to 
await  such  tidings  as  the  day  might  bring  to  them. 

A  bride  of  but  little  more  than  a  month,  Madame 
Tascher  de  La-Pagerie  had  been  compelled  to  part 
from  her  husband  a  week  previous  to  the  battle, 
when  he  was  ordered  to  assist  at  the  defense  of  the 
Fort.  As  a  lieutenant  of  the  forces,  he  could  not 
evade  his  duty  to  the  government ;  loyal  and  patri- 
otic, he  yet  left  his  bride  with  reluctance,  and  an- 
swered the  imperative  call  to  arms. 

He  had  sent  daily  messages  to  her  as  he  directed 
the  erection  of  earthworks  behind  the  town,  scarped 


JOSEPHINE.  5 

the  hillsides  commanding  the  bay  ;  but  for  the  last 
two  days  no  messenger  had  been  able  to  reach  the 
plantation,  isolated  as  it  was  among  the  hills,  and 
beyond  the  bay  swept  by  the  guns  of  the  enemy. 

Though  almost  overborne  by  her  grief  and  anx- 
iety, Madame  Tascher  could  not  yield  to  her  desire 
for  seclusion,  but  was  obliged  to  attend  to  the  affairs 
of  the  large  plantation,  with  'its  dependent  slaves. 
Two  days  had  nearly  passed,  the  second  was  nearing 
its  close,  when  the  mistress  of  La-Pagerie  saw  a 
negro  riding  up  the  palm-bordered  avenue  from 
the  landing  at  the  bay.  Standing  in  the  southern 
doorway,  above  the  rose-garden,  she  saw  behind 
this  horseman  another,  coming  at  a  furious  rate  ; 
and  a  few  minutes  later  was  sobbing  on  her  hus- 
band's breast. 

The  fight  had  ended,  with  victory  for  the  English  ; 
the  planters  were  dispersing  to  their  homes ;  and 
Lieutenant  Tascher,  who  had  acquitted  himself  so 
bravely  as  to  win  the  esteem  of  the  English  com- 
mander, was  permitted  to  return  to  his  estate. 

Finding  the  demands  of  his  large  properties  suffi- 
cient to  occupy  all  his  time,  Lieutenant  Tascher 
resigned  his  commission  and  devoted  himself 
entirely  to  agricultural  occupations.  His  principal 
estate  was  this  on  which  he  and  his  bride  had  taken 
up  their  abode,  and  which  had  come  to  them  as  her 
dower  :  the  beautiful  valley  of  Sannois  near  the 
little  hamlet  of  Trois-Ilets.  Acres  unsurveyed  lay 
spread  out  upon  the  hills  adjacent  :  the  valley  itself 
penetrated  far  into  the  interior.  All  within  sight 


6  JOSEPHINE. 

of  their  house  was  theirs,  stretching  from  the  quiet 
waters  of  the  bay  to  the  crests  of  the  distant  hills. 

Not  only  the  soil  belonged  to  them,  but  the  entire 
population  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  slaves.  Here 
they  lived  happily  surrounded  by  their  dependants, 
over  whom  they  exercised  a  beneficent  sway,  and 
entertaining  their  friends,  when  they  chanced  to 
visit  from  the  near  town  of  Fort  Eoyal,  and  the 
farther  city  of  St.  Pierre. 

Two  happy  and  peaceful  years  followed  the  capt- 
ure of  the  island  by  the  English.  In  the  cultivation, 
of  his  vast  estate,  with  its  billowy  fields  of  sugar- 
cane and  fragrant  groves  of  coffee- trees,  M.  Tascher 
passed  his  time,  outwardly  tranquil,  but  inwardly 
disturbed  by  the  thought  that  he  and  his  family  were 
the  subjects  of  an  alien  government.  His  father, 
the  first  of  the  name  in  America,  had  come  to  this 
island  of  Martinique  in  the  year  1726.  He  was  a  per- 
sonage of  rank,  as  appears  from  his  request,  four 
years  later,  for  the  registration  of  his  letters  of 
nobility  ;  a  formality  which  the  French  noblemen 
coming  to  the  Antilles  never  omitted. 

His  request  was  granted,  but  not  until  1745,  and 
meanwhile  he  had  been  united  in  marriage  to  Mile, 
de  La  Chevalerie,  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy  family 
of  the  island. 

A  son  was  born  to  them,  Joseph  Gaspard  de  La- 
Pagerie,  whom  they  sent  to  be  educated  in  France. 
This  young  man  returned  to  Martinique  in  1755,  was 
appointed  First  Lieutenant  of  Artillery,  and  actively 
engaged  in  the  erection  of  batteries  at  Fort  Koyal, 


JOSEPHINE.  7 

the  chief  port  and  naval  station  of  the  French  West 
Indies.  He  aided  in  a  repulse  of  an  English  force 
under  General  Moore,  in  1759,  and  (as  we  have  al- 
ready seen)  took  an  active  part  in  the  defense  of 
Fort  Royal  during  the  second  assault,  in  1762. 

Following  the  example  of  his  illustrious  father, 
he  formed  an  alliance  with  a  rich  Creole  family,  in 
November,  1761,  by  marriage  with  Mile.  Rose-Clair 
des  Vergers  de  Sannois.  Through  her  he  came  into 
possession  of  the  estate  of  Sannois,  to  which  he 
retired  at  about  the  age  of  twenty-seven,  there  to 
reside  the  remainder  of  his  life.* 

Absorbed  as  this  happy  couple  became  in  the  mul- 
titudinous cares  of  the  "  great-house  "  (as  the  dwell- 
ing of  a  West  Indian  proprietor  is  called )  and  the 
acres  adjacent,  they  yet  perpetually  recurred  to  the 
one  irritant  of  their  otherwise  placid  existence  :  the 
floating  of  a  foreign  flag  above  the  Fort. 

As  devoted  children  and  lovers  of  La  belle  France, 
their  existence  was  embittered  by  this  reflection : 
that  their  children,  should  they  be  blest  with  any, 
would  be  born  beneath  an  alien  flag. 

Fortune,  however,  still  continued  favoring  :  there 
came  a  day  when  M.  Tascher  was  made  supremely 
happy  by  the  intelligence  that  a  daughter  had  been 
born  to  him.  And,  coincident  with  this  announce- 
ment, came  the  faint  report  of  cannon,  from  across 
the  bay.  Fort  Royal  was  rejoicing  over  the  reces- 
sion of  Martinique. 

*  Histoire  de  la  Martfnfque. 
*  See  Appendix  I. 


8  JOSEPHINE. 

Then  the  cloud  lifted  from  the  planter's  brow, 
for  his  daughter  was  a  child  of  France ! 

NOTE. — Martinique  lies  between  the  14th  and  15th  degree  of  lati- 
tude, north  ;  is  about  45  miles  long  by  15  broad,  with  an  area  of  380 
miles.  It  was  discovered  by  Columbus,  in  1502,  inhabited  by  Indians 
who  called  the  Island  Madiana.  The  French  colonized  it  in  1635. 
The  British  seized  it  in  the  years  1762,  '81,  '94,  and  in  1809  ;  but  it 
was  finally  restored  by  the  treaty  of  Paris,  1814.  Slavery  was  abol- 
ished in  1848,  and  the  bulk  of  the  present  population  is  black  or 
colored.  It  was  the  naval  station  and  rendezvous  of  the  French, 
during  the  American  revolution. 


MAP  OF  THE  ISLAND  OF  MARTINIQUE. 


JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HER  FIRST  DECADE. 

THIS  daughter  of  the  Creole  planter,  whose  birth 
was  thus  auspiciously  announced  by  the  salvos  of  re- 
turning peace,  was  none  other  than  she  who  subse- 
quently became  celebrated  as  JOSEPHINE. 

The  treaty  of  peace,  by  which  Martinique, 
amongst  other  colonial  possessions,  had  been  re- 
stored to  France,  was  signed  on  the  twelfth  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1763.  A  war-ship  brought  the  news  to  Fort 
Royal ;  the  final  transfer  of  troops  and  the  installa- 
tion of  the  new  governor  took  place  in  June,  on  the 
twenty-third  of  which  month  Josephine  was  born. 
The  planter  and  nis  wife  desired  a  son,  and  to  veil 
their  disappointment  they  bestowed  upon  the  new 
arrival  the  name  so  honorably  borne  by  the  father 
and  grandfather.  The  child  was  christened  Marie- 
Joseph-Rose,  thus  combining  and  perpetuating  the 
baptismal  names  of  her  grandfather,  grandmother, 
father  and  mother  : — Marie-Joseph-Rose-Tascher 
de  La-Pagerie.  This  formidable  appellation  was 
soon  abbreviated  to  Josephine,  around  which  have 
since  clustered  all  synonyms  for  grace  and  win- 
someness. 


Six  years  later,  on  the  island  of  Corsica,  was  born 


10  JOSEPHINE. 

one  with  whom  the  name  of  Josephine  is  insepa- 
rably linked : — NAPOLEON. 

Napoleon  and  Josephine  :  we  cannot  but  pause  a 
moment  to  note  the  parallelisms  in  the  great  events 
of  their  lives. 

Both  were  island-born  ;  the  one  in  a  rock-ribbed 
isle  of  the  Mediterranean,  the  other  in  a  tropic  seg- 
ment of  the  Caribbean  crescent. 

Both  first  saw  the  light  soon  after  the  accession  of 
their  native  land  to  France ;  and  both  have  been 
wrongfully  accused  of  being  but  the  adopted  children 
of  that  country.* 

Both  early  sought  the  shores  of  the  mother-land  ; 
but  both  ever  retained  their  love  for  the  place  of 
their  birth,  returning  to  it  when  in  trouble,  and 
maintaining  an  affection  for  its  people. 

Their  happiest  years  were  those  of  their  youth  and 
passed  in  the  retreats  of  nature,  free  from  strife  and 
turmoil.  To  them  they  constantly  recurred,  with 
longing  and  in  loving  remembrance  ;  but,  urged  by 
ambition,  they  pursued  a  course  counter  to  the  dic- 
tates of  their  affections. 

Each  was  twice  married,  once  for  love,  once  to 
gratify  ambition. 

To  the  last,  each  retained  the  other  in  esteem,  de- 
spite the  estrangement  of  their  latter  years. 


But  to  return  to  that  eventful  day,  the  twenty- 

*  Corsica  was  annexed  to  France  in  June,  1769  ;  Napoleon  born 
15th  of  August,  that  year. 


BIRTHPLACE  OF  JOSEPHINE. 


JOSEPHINE.  11 

third  of  June,  1763.  Joy  and  gladness  filled  the 
hearts  of  the  planter  and  his  wife.  Writing  to  her 
sister,  a  week  later,  Madame  de  La-Pagerie  ex- 
pressed her  great  gratitude  to  God  for  "  His  gift  of 
a  daughter,"  and  hoped  the  child  would  possess  all 
the  most  agreeable  traits  of  both  ancestral  families. 
That  her  desires  were  gratified,  at  least  in  this  re- 
gard, history  has  assured  us  ;  no  more  loving  and 
winsome  infant,  later  developing  into  a  graceful 
and  sympathetic  girl  and  mother,  ever  gladdened 
the  hearts  of  hopeful  parents. 

The  Creole  nature  is  one  of  complaisance  ;  yet,  the 
surroundings  of  a  child  of  wealthy  parents,  in  those 
days  of  slavery,  were  not  conducive  to  deferential  de- 
portment. Slave  women  waited  on  the  child  from 
birth,  their  children  were  also  at  its  service  night  and 
day. 

Hereditary  influences  and  climatic  conditions 
conduced  to  shape  the  little  Creole  into  a  perfect 
type  of  her  class.  She  was  unfettered  by  clothes 
and  unrestrained  by  commands.  As  the  tropical 
sun  evokes  from  the  soil  an  exuberance  of  vegeta- 
tion to  which  the  colder  regions  are  strangers,  so, 
too,  the  solar  energy  manifests  itself  in  the  ardency 
of  the  human  temperament. 

The  Creole  is  more  volatile,  less  restrained,  more 
passionate,  and  given  to  lighter  play  of  fancy,  than 
the  dweller  at  the  North.  And  this  quality  is  more 
than  temperamental  :  it  is  physical,  also. 

The  Creole  (that  is,  the  descendant  of  Europeans 
born  in  the  Tropics)  has  a  delicacy  of  figure  and 


12  JOSEPHINE. 

litheness  of  limb,  a  grace  and  freedom  of  move- 
ment, that  compensates  for  the  loss  of  robustness 
and  perhaps  of  virility.  Free  from  the  restraints 
of  clothing,  in  earliest  youth,  the  body  develops 
along  natural  lines  and  the  limbs  become  models  of 
symmetry. 

Such  a  "  child  of  the  sun,"  a  creature  of  love, 
laughter,  and  careless  gayety,  was  the  youthful 
Josephine.  As  soon  as  she  could  walk  outside  the 
doors  of  the  "  great  house  "  she  became  the  favorite 
companion  of  the  slave-children,  who  swarmed 
about  the  establishment.  Or,  rather,  they  became 
her  devoted  adherents,  guiding  her  footsteps,  watch- 
ing over  her  every  movement.  She  was  really  a 
queen  before  she  could  talk,  an  empress  in  fact 
before  she  ever  saw  the  shores  of  France.  Accus- 
tomed to  have  her  lightest  fancy  taken  seriously, 
to  have  her  orders  obeyed  as  soon  as  uttered,  she 
was  in  danger  of  becoming  imperious  and  selfish. 
Only  her  native  sweetness  saved  her  :  the  innate 
and  surpassing  graciousness  of  her  disposition. 

There  is  a  tradition  of  a  sister,  a  year  older  than 
herself  ;  but  the  records  of  the  little  church  where 
she  was  baptized  do  not  confirm  it.  At  all  events, 
she  had  no  sisterly  companion  with  whom  to  join  in 
play,  and  was  chiefly  thrown  upon  the  resources 
afforded  by  the  colored  children  about  the  place. 

There  was  freedom  enough  :  room  enough  in 
which  to  expand,  to  develop,  to  indulge  in  romp  or 
ramble.. 

The  planter's  house  was  situated  upon  a  natural 


JOSEPHINE.  13 

terrace,  escarped  from  the  side  of  a  steep  hill. 
Behind  it  rose  the  hills  that  swung  around  the  head 
of  the  valley  and  cut  off  the  view  in  that  direction. 
But  in  front,  the  ground  sloped  towards  the  sea,  to 
which  led  a  broad  and  straight  avenue  of  mag- 
nificent palms.  Their  trunks  straight  as  arrows, 
and  over  one  hundred  feet  in  height ;  their  verdant 
crowns  interlaced  above  the  road. 

Between  the  house  and  the  palm-avenue  lay  the 
rose-garden,  filled  with  plants  that  bloomed  perpet- 
ually ;  their  fragrance  invaded  and  made  delightful 
the  atmosphere  of  the  dwelling. 

A  fruit-garden  rambled  around  the  outer  edge  of 
this  paradise  of  roses,  straggled  over  the  slopes, 
and  finally  lost  itself  in  the  depths  of  the  valley, 
out  of  which  tumbled  a  brawling  stream.  In  the 
dry  season  this  stream  was  a  mere  babbling  brook, 
drawing  its  thread  of  silver  over  the  broad  and 
rocky  bed  ;  when  the  rains  came  it  fumed  and 
roared,  fighting  its  way  between  the  tree-trunks 
and  carrying  some  of  them  off  with  it  to  the  sea. 

When  in  its  normal  condition  it  held  many  a 
peaceful  pool  in  its  embrace,  rambling  from  one  to 
another  with  the  freedom  of  a  true  tropical  lover. 
One  of  these  pools  was  early  selected  by  Josephine's 
mother  as  her  bathing-place.  It  lay  beneath  a  giant 
ceiba  tree,  a  silk-cotton,  whose  buttressed  trunk 
reached  out  into  it,  and  above  it  spread  its  canopy 
of  verdant  foliage. 

The  glorious  palms  and  the  silk-cottons  were  the 
Titans  of  this  tropical  world  in  miniature,  towering 


14  JOSEPHINE. 

so  high  above  their  fellows  that  all  others  were 
dwarfed  by  comparison.  Beneath  them  grew  the 
mango  and  guava,  the  custard-apple,  sapote,  banana, 
orange,  plantain,  calabash,  and  a  hundred  others. 
Fruits  were  in  abundance,  all  the  year  through. 
The  golden -fruited  mango  shaded  the  veranda  and 
dropped  its  delicious  morsels  for  the  little  girl  to 
find.  The  same  tree,  or  one  of  its  descendants,  still 
casts  its  shade  over  the  ground  where  Josephine 
played  with  her  companions.  On  the  hill-slopes 
gleamed  the  yellow  cane,  in  the  gorges  grew  the 
glossy-leaved  coffee,  with  its  crimson  fruit.  Tan- 
gles of  vine  and  serpentine  liane  made  barriers  at 
the  mouths  of  the  ravines  and  hung  their  festoons 
around  the  trees. 

But  this  Happy  Valley  was  not  without  its  evil 
things  ;  beneath  the  luxuriant  growth  of  vine  and 
shrub  lurked  many  dangers.  Within  the  house 
itself  were  venomous  insects,  hiding  beneath  the 
floors,  in  holes  and  corners.  There  was  always 
danger  of  disturbing  an  enormous  centipede,  with 
its  numerous  feet,  its  scaly  back  and  poisonous 
mandibles.  This  island  is  its  peculiar  haunt, 
and  here  it  attains  to  a  length  of  many  inches. 
Rapid  of  movement  as  anything  that  crawls,  it 
flashes  upon  your  sight  an  instant,  then  is  gone. 
It  hides  in  your  clothing,  and  if  disturbed  pricks  its 
poison  into  your  flesh,  leaving  behind  a  burning 
fever.  Or  the  tarantula,  which  here  is  surcharged 
with  venom,  and  is  found  so  large  that  its  hairy 
legs  can  spread  across  a  saucer.  Scorpions,  too, 


JOSEPHINE.  15 

share  with  the  centipedes  the  soft  and  rotting  wood, 
and  hide  beneath  chips,  dead  leaves  and  even  cast- 
off  clothing.  Ants  in  great  variety,  some  of  them 
capable  of  inflicting  burning  stings,  some  invading 
the  house  in  hordes  of  millions.  Great  house- 
spiders,  harmless  but  hideous ;  bats  as  large  as 
doves,  but  not  so  innocent  of  harmful  intent  ; 
chigoes,  minute  insects  that  penetrate  the  flesh  and 
lay  eggs  therein  that  develop  into  festering  sores  ; 
the  bete-rouge,  a  kind  of  tick,  that  fastens  upon  the 
skin  and  buries  its  head  in  the  flesh.  These  are  the 
worst  of  the  plagues  with  which  a  tropical  country 
is  infested  ;  but  mere  mention  of  them  will  show 
how  many  are  the  dangers  to  which  an  infant 
is  exposed.  Even  the  carefully-nurtured  child  of 
wealth  cannot  wholly  escape  some  annoyance,  and 
the  children  of  the  lower  classes  are  frequently 
stung  and  bitten. 

Contempt  is  the  child  of  familiarity,  and  the  fre- 
quency with  which  such  pests  are  seen  divests  them 
of  the  terror  they  might  otherwise  inspire.  But 
there  is  one  disturber  of  the  peace  in  Martinique 
which  is  not  only  carefully  avoided,  but  feared. 
This  is  the  poisonous  serpent,  called  the  Fer-de- 
Lance.  It  is  aggressive  and  venomous,  and  though 
its  home  is  in  the  forest,  yet  it  frequently  descends 
to  the  gardens,  and  even  enters  the  dwellings.  Ever 
since  the  island  has  been  in  possession  of  the  white 
man,  this  serpent  has  been  a  terror  and  scourge. 
It  invades  the  cane -fields,  where  it  strikes  down  the 
negro-laborer ;  suspends  itself  from  limbs  of  trees 


16  JOSEPHINE. 

that  stretch  above  the  forest-paths  ;  lies  in  wait  for 
its  victims  in  every  conceivable  situation.  Except 
within  the  cities,  where  the  streets  are  lighted,  there 
is  no  stir  of  human  life  in  this  tropical  island,  after 
the  shades  of  night  have  fallen.  Imagine,  then,  the 
monotony  of  existence  on  a  plantation,  where  the 
family  seek  repose  soon  after  dark ;  where  books 
are  scarce ;  to  which  the  newspaper  rarely  pene- 
trates. 

The  span  of  child-life  is  the  daytime  ;  the  waking 
hours  filled  with  boisterous  play,  the  night  with 
sleep.  To  the  child,  then,  the  monotony  of  planta- 
tion-life would  not  seem  depressing. 

*  See  Appendix  II. 


JOSEPHINE.  17 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    GREAT    HURRICANE. 

"I  ran,  I  jumped,  I  danced,  from  morning  to 
night  ;  no  one  restrained  the  wild  movements  of 
my  childhood." 

These  are  the  words  of  Josephine  herself,  recur- 
ring in  later  years  to  the  happiest  period  of  her 
life :  the  first  decade  of  her  child-life  at  Sannois- 
de-la-Pagerie. 

With  the  earliest  dawn  of  day  she  was  out  of  her 
couch  and  in  the  open  air.  The  great  room  in 
which  she  slept,  with  its  bare  white  walls  and  tiled 
floor,  was  occupied  conjointly  with  her  favorite 
nurse,  Adee,  who  was  tireless  in  her  efforts  to 
please  and  protect  her  little  charge.  Adee  was  one 
of  those  golden- skinned  products  of  tropical  Marti- 
nique, a  me'tise,  with  purple  tints  in  hair  and 
melancholy  eyes,  and  the  hues  of  sun-ripened  fruit 
in  her  complexion.  She  was  tall  and  lithe,  young, 
joyous,  and  loving.  Her  lovers  could  be  counted  by 
the  score ;  but  not  one  of  them  could  draw  her 
away  from  "  'ti  Josephine,"  to  whom  she  had  vowed 
devotion  to  the  death. 

One  of  those  delicious  mornings,  to   experience 


18  JOSEPHINE. 

which  is  the  joy  of  a  lifetime,  Josephine  opened 
her  eyes  to  see  her  good  nurse  bending  over  her. 
She  was  that  day  three  years  old,  and  a  little  fete 
had  been  arranged  in  celebration  of  such  an  impor- 
tant event.  It  was  the  custom,  among  the  planters 
of  that  time,  'to  perform  some  act,  or  make  some 
sacrifice,  that  should  cause  the  birthdays  of  their 
children  to  be  remembered.  On  this  occasion  M. 
Tascher  had  promised  to  give  his  daughter  an  un- 
usual happiness  :  in  honor  of  her  birthday  he  had 
promised  to  free  one  of  the  slaves. 

It  was  with  the  recollection  of  her  father's  prom- 
ise, that  she  opened  her  eyes  and  looked  up  question- 
ingly  into  the  face  of  her  nurse.  "Is  it  lovely? 
Is  the  sun  shining  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Of  course  it  is,  petit  fi !  it  is  always  shining; 
but- 

"  But  ?  "  repeated  Josephine,  anxiously.  "  It 
must  shine  ;  to-day  little  Jo- jo  is  to  be  made  free. 
Papa  has  given  him  to  me." 

"Yes,  ma  chere,"  said  the  girl,  imprinting  a  kiss 
on  the  ripe  lips,  which  Josephine  unconsciously  re- 
turned ;  "  but  I  saw  a  bad-looking  cloud  in  the  sky, 
as  I  went  out  to  feed  the  doves,  and  the  hurricane- 
birds  were  flying  low  over  the  bay.  But  roll  out, 
now,  let  me  put  on  the  new  frock  from  the  Fort. 
Ah,  how  lovely  she  will  look  ;  come  now,  to  the 
bath." 

The  little  pink  feet  pattered  across  the  marble 
tiles,  to  the  bath-room,  where  the  sweet  water  from 
the  hills,  I'eau  douce,  was  gurgling  in  the  basin, 


JOSEPHINE.  19 

and  soon  their  owner  was  laughing  and  plashing, 
to  the  music  of  the  stream.  The  nurse's  face  wore 
an  anxious  expression,  but  with  sweet  gravity  she 
attended  upon  the  child,  now  and  then  casting  a  look 
towards  the  window  opening  upon  the  bay.  Sud- 
denly the  door  of  the  chamber  was  opened,  and  M. 
Tascher  appeared.  He  cast  a  hurried  glance  around, 
and  then,  seeing  the  ones  he  sought,  he  seized  a 
large  bath-towel,  threw  it  around  his  daughter,  and 
gathering  her  into  his  arms,  pressed  her  to  his 
breast,  kissing  her  passionately. 

"Quick,  Adee,  follow  me  with  what  you  can  find 
at  hand.  To  the  case-a-vent :  to  the  hurricane- 
house  ;  lose  not  a  moment ;  the  hurricane  is  upon 
us.  Madame  is  already  there."  * 

The  quick  ears  of  Adee  had  already  caught  the 
premonitory  mutterings  of  the  coming  storm  ;  but 
she  had  hoped  to  finish  the  child's  toilet  without 
alarming  her.  Gathering  into  her  arms  some 
articles  of  clothing  scattered  on  the  floor,  she 
hastened  after  her  master,  who  had  crossed  the  en- 
closure behind  the  dwelling,  and  was  at  the  entrance 
of  the  hurricane-house. 

The  case-a-vent,  or  hurricane-house,  was  an  in- 
dispensable adjunct  of  every  plantation  in  the  island, 

*  The  author  is  indebted  for  this  narrative,  to  the  traditions  of 
Trois-Ilets. 

The  great  hurricane,  which  destroyed  the  property  of  M. 
Tascher,  and  devastated  the  island,  occurred  the  13th  August, 
1766,  some  seven  weeks  after  Josephine's  third  birthday.  See 
Appendix  (3)  and  "  Histoire  Generate  des  Antilles." 


20  JOSEPHINE. 

subject  as  it  was  to  those  terrible  storms  called  by 
the  first  Indians,  ouragans,  and  which  have  made 
desolate  many  a  fair  and  prosperous  estate. 

It  is  usually  built  into  or  under  the  side  of  a  hill, 
with  walls  of  stone  several  feet  in  thickness,  and, 
as  far  as  possible,  in  a  sheltered  situation.  The  door 
is  of  thick  plank,  there  are  no  windows  ;  and,  as  may 
be  imagined,  the  air  within,  if  the  storm  be  of  long 
duration,  is  most  oppressive. 

Not  too  soon  had  the  family  of  M.  Tascher 
sought  and  gained  the  shelter  of  the  cave  under  the 
hill.  Scarcely  had  the  last  servant  been  drawn 
within  and  the  massive  door  closed  and  bolted,  than 
the  hurricane  was  upon  them  in  all  its  fury.  The 
tall  palms  writhed  and  bent  beneath  its  blows  ; 
mango  and  calabash,  orange  and  guava  trees  were 
quickly  stripped  of  their  limbs  ;  roof-tiles  from  the 
mansion,  boards  from  the  negro-quarters,  and 
branches  wrenched  from  trees,  were  hurled  through 
the  air. 

The  door  of  the  case-a-vent  groaned  on  its  huge 
hinges,  strained  at  the  iron  bars  across  it,  almost 
burst  its  fastenings.  The  air  within  the  cave  be- 
came hot  to  suffocation  ;  moans  and  cries  arose 
from  the  terrified  servants  ;  but  little  Josephine 
uttered  not  a  word.  Close  clasping  her  arms  around 
her  father's  neck,  and  clinging  also  to  her  mother's 
hand,  she  lay  quiet  and  calm.  But  within  her 
tender  bosom  what  tumultuous  feelings  struggled 
for  expression !  .  .  .  Her  fete-day,  it  was  to  have 
been  ;  she  was  to  have  ruled  the  plantation  as  a 


JOSEPHINE.  21 

queen  absolute ;  one  of  her  subjects  was  to  have 
been  freed  from  the  bonds  of  slavery  ;  on  every  side 
there  would  have  been  joy  and  rejoicing.  But  now 
.  .  .  Upon  a  sensitive  organism  like  hers,  what 
lasting  impress  would  this  scene  and  experience 
make  !  .  .  .  With  senses  exquisitely  attuned  to  the 
harmonies  of  nature,  what  a  shock  would  be  this 
dissonance  ! 

Thus  early  in  her  sad  life,  she  was  brought  face 
to  face  with  the  terror  and  despair  of  humanity. 
She  must  have  been  impressed  with  man's  impo- 
tence ;  perhaps  then  was  born  her  fatalism,  her 
resignation  to  the  inevitable,  to  which  she  clung  in 
later  years. 

The  hours  passed  slowly ;  but  finally  the  door 
ceased  to  strain  at  its  fastenings,  and  M.  Tascher 
commanded  the  huge  negro  who  had  it  in  charge, 
to  open  it  a  little  way.  Carefully  and  slowly,  the 
bolts  were  drawn  and  daylight  admitted.  All  was 
quiet  without.  The  darkness  that  had  accompanied 
the  storm,  caused  by  the  dense  clouds  and  sheets  of 
rain,  had  been  dispelled  by  the  sun,  which  was  now 
shining  brightly.  A  mighty  sigh  of  relief  arose 
from  that  imprisoned  throng  ;  but  changed  to  cries 
of  distress  as  the  scene  of  desolation  met  their  view. 

The  wind  had  died  away  to  a  moan ;  exhausted 
nature  lay  prostrate,  torn  and  bleeding.  Hardly  a 
tree  was  left  standing :  huge  ceibas,  cedars,  and 
sapote  trees  had  been  uprooted  and  cast  to  the 
ground.  But  the  most  mournful  spectacle  was  of 
the  palm-avenue,  for  in  place  of  the  columnar 


22  JOSEPHINE. 

trunks  with  their  waving  plumes,  was  a  ragged  row 
of  shattered  stumps,  with  here  and  there  a  few 
mangled  leaves  clinging  to  the  stems.  The  huts  of 
the  negroes,  which  had  been  grouped  around  the 
sugar-mill,  were  entirely  destroyed,  and  soon  a 
hundred  despairing  beings  were  groping  in  their 
ruins. 

All  this  scene  of  devastation  M.  Tascher  took  in 
at  a  glance  ;  it  somewhat  prepared  him  for  the 
crowning  desolation  of  all :  the  total  destruction  of 
his  house.* 

A  groan  escaped  him,  as  he  looked  upon  what  had 
been  his  happy  home.  In  ruins  ;  not  a  wall  left 
standing  ;  the  rose-garden  strewn  with  stones  and 
tiles.  From  that  moment  the  father  of  Josephine 
was  a  changed  and  broken  man.  Tall,  alert,  hand- 
some, ever  with  a  smile  on  his  bronzed  face,  he 
had  worked  hopefully  for  his  home  and  family  ;  had 
built  and  improved  ;  but  now,  all  was  swept  away, 
the  work  of  years,  the  improvements  of  a  century. 

He  never  rebuilt  the  great-house  ;  for  years  after, 
the  family  lived  in  the  upper  rooms  of  the  sucrerie, 
or  sugar-house,  where  the  cane  was  ground  and 
converted  into  sugar. 

His  wife  clung  to  his  shoulders  and  little  Josephine 
mutely  appealed  to  be  taken  to  his  arms.  With- 
drawing his  fixed  gaze  from  the  ruins,  he  looked 
absently  at  them  a  moment ;  then  the  consciousness 

*"3f.  de  La  Pagerie  cut  sa  maison  cohabitation  entierement 
ruinee  ;  le  b&timent  seul  de  sa  sucrerie  resta  debout.  C'est  la  quVl  se 
refugiaavec  safemmeet  Josephine,"  etc.,  Histoire  de  la  Martinique. 


JOSEPHINE.  23 

of  their  continued  presence  came  upon  him  and  he 
clasped  them  to  his  breast.  "  My  wife,  my  daughter  ; 
yes,  thank  the  good  God,  they  are  left  to  me  ! '' 

With  eyes  blinded  by  tears,  the  unfortunates 
sought  for  some  familiar  scene  ;  but  all  was  changed. 
The  river  had  burst  its  banks,  had  swept  away  their 
garden  and  many  trees ;  but  more  than  this  :  it  had 
carried  away  some  of  their  servants  in  the  flood. 

Only  the  great  sugar-house  remained  standing,  of 
all  the  buildings  pertaining  to  the  estate.  To  this 
structure  the  now  homeless  family  directed  their 
steps.  Its  walls  were  of  stone,  some  two  feet  in 
thickness,  its  rafters  heavy  and  covered  with  earthen 
tiles,  the  doorways  were  broad,  with  granite  lintels. 
Above  the  ground-floor,  where  the  machinery  was 
placed:  huge  rollers  to  press  the  juice  from  the  cane, 
great  gloomy  vats  filled  with  water,  an  endless 
tramway  for  the  carrying  away  of  the  cane-stalks  ; 
above  this  dark,  cavern-like  room  were  two  large 
chambers.  The  beams  supporting  the  floor  were 
sound  and  strong,  and  the  floor  itself  intact.  To 
the  chambers  the  negroes,  obeying  M.  Tascher's 
orders,  carried  such  of  the  furniture  as  they  could 
find,  such  of  the  scattered  clothing  and  valuables  as 
could  be  collected,  and  there  the  family  took  up  their 
abode.  Fate,  or  fortune,  so  willed  it  that  while  she 
lived  at  Trois-Ilets,  Josephine  knew  no  other  place  of 
residence,  unless  visiting  at  the  house  of  a  friend,  or 
at  school. 

Two  dormer  windows  were  thrown  out  towards 
the  sea,  the  bare  rafters  were  hung  with  draperies, 


24  JOSEPHINE. 

mats  of  rushes  were  strewn  upon  the  floor,  and  the 
rooms  made  as  habitable  as  possible. 

The  old  building  still  stands  (or  it  stood,  a  few 
years  ago,  when  it  was  seen  by  the  writer  of  these 
lines),  a  mute  memorial  of  that  scene  of  devastation 
of  more  than  one  hundred  years  ago.  Nothing  else 
remains  to  remind  one  of  what  transpired  here  when 
it  was  the  home  of  the  youthful  empress.  Of  the 
great-house,  only  the  kitchen  was  left  standing,  by 
the  hurricane ;  the  ancienne  cuisine,  as  it  is  called 
to-day  ;  this,  too,  still  exists.  The  lover  of  Josephine, 
the  traveler  who  may  chance  to  reach  this  obscure 
valley,  may  still  trace  the  outline  of  the  great-house 
walls,  and  look  upon  the  small  structure  that  was 
once  attached  to  it.  Its  walls  are  of  stone,  its  roof 
of  rich-hued  tiles,  lichen-covered.  Above  it  droops 
a  mango  tree,  dropping  its  golden  fruit  to-day,  as  in 
the  century  past,  for  the  children  playing  beneath 
its  shade.  In  this  small  building  lived  for  many 
years  the  mother  of  Josephine,  after  the  death  of 
her  husband,  and  even  while  her  daughter  was  em- 
press of  France. 

As  the  watchful  Adee  was  carrying  Josephine  to 
the  place  in  which  they  were  to  live,  her  attention 
was  attracted  by  an  object  floating  at  the  river-side. 
She  halted,  but,  though  shuddering  with  an  unde- 
fined feeling  of  dread,  she  continued  her  way  to  the 
upper  chamber,  first  leaving  her  charge  with  a  serv- 
ant, before  returning  to  confirm  her  fears. 


JOSEPHINE.  25 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  CARIB   PROPHETESS. 

HER  fears  were  realized.  Parting  the  guava 
bushes,  peering  through  them  fearfully,  Adee  saw 
the  body  of  little  Jo- jo,  his  hands  grasping  the  guava 
roots,  his  glassy  eyes  looking  up  into  the  sky.  "  Ah, 
pauvj  gar  con ;  poor  little  Jo- jo  ;  and  yesterday  he 
was  to  have  been  free  !  "  Adee  carefully  drew  the 
dead  boy  from  the  water,  and  took  him  to  the  negro 
camp,  where  his  mother  received  him  in  stony 
silence.  Hers  was  not  the  only  bleeding  heart  in 
the  valley  of  Sannois.  A  disaster  so  overwhelm- 
ing, so  universal,  had  reduced  the  usually  boister- 
ous negroes  to  despairing  quietude.  They  gathered 
around  the  mother  with  mute  offers  of  sympathy  ; 
one  stretched  out  the  contorted  limbs,  another  went 
to  the  wrecked  workshop  and  made  him  a  casket  of 
cedar  wood  ;  another  dug  a  grave  beneath  the  mango- 
tree  above  the  ford.  That  evening  they  bore  him 
gently  to  his  rest  beneath  the  fruited  mango,  all  the 
slaves  joining  in  the  procession.  Jo- jo  had  been  the 
favorite  playfellow  of  Josephine ;  he  was  a  few 
years  older  than  the  white  child,  and  grave  and  dig- 
nified beyond  his  age.  Next  to  Adee,  he  had  held  a 
place  in  her  heart,  as  one  to  be  loved  and  trusted. 
Her  first  inquiry,  after  the  noon-day  siesta,  was  for 


26  JOSEPHINE. 

her  companion.  "  Bring  Jo- jo  to  me,  Adee,  I  wish 
to  tell  him  he  is  free.  No  fete,  no  flowers  ;  only  the 
big  storm  ;  but  no  matter  ;  it  was  my  birthday,  was 
it  not  ?  And  papa  promised  me  Jo-jo.  I  wonder  if 
he  will  leave  us  and  his  mamma,  now  he  is  free  ?  " 

"He  has  left  already,"  said  Adee,  burying  her 
head  in  her  hands;  "when  you  were  sleeping,  a 
good  man  came  to  take  him  away." 

The  child  regarded  her  inquiringly.  Her  own 
nature  was  truthful ;  she  believed  in  her  nurse  im- 
plicitly ;  but  there  was  a  veiled  something  in  her 
words  she  could  not  understand.  It  seemed  incred- 
ible that  Jo- jo  should  have  gone  without  bidding 
her  farewell. 

At  last  she  said,  calmly,  with  a  suspicion  of  fear 
creeping  around  her  heart :  ' '  Adee,  who  was  the 
'  good  man ' ;  was  it— 

"Ah,  ma  chere  it  was  le  Bon  Die ; — the  good  Lord 
took  little  Jo -jo."  The  child  clasped  her  hands,  her 
tears  flowing  silently. 

"Then,  Adee, — then  Jo-jo  ^sfree,  is  he  not?" 

"Yes,  child  ;  but  do  not  think  of  it ;  better  not ; 
he  is  happy  now.  Come,  come  down  with  me  to  the 
bay.  I  will  carry  you."  Adee  forced  herself  to 
smile,  singing  a  favorite  song,  which  always  capt- 
ured the  hearts  of  the  little  ones  :— 

"  Come,  my  darling,  kiss  your  sweetheart ; 
She  will  buy  you  fowl  and  rice  ; 
Come,  my  dearest,  kiss  your  sweetheart." 

Josephine  rose  submissively,  and  Adee  took  her  to 


JOSEPHINE.  27 

the  bay,  wending  her  way  through  and  over  fallen 
tree-trunks,  and  the  million  fragments  of  their  dev- 
astated home.  There  they  found  the  fishermen 
assembled,  bewailing  the  total  loss  of  their  boats  and 
nets.  The  shore  was  strewn  with  wreckage,  and 
multitudes  of  fish  were  lying  on  the  sands  and  in  the 
grass,  where  the  storm  had  cast  them. 

The  river-mouth  was  full  of  titiri,  little  fish  so 
small  that  a  hundred  would  scarce  fill  a  teaspoon, 
but  which,  when  fresh,  are  made  into  the  most 
delicious  of  fish-cakes.  The  natives  of  the  island 
have  a  tradition  that  the  titiri  only  appear  with  the 
heats  of  the  summer  lightning,  and  they  call  the 
electric  flashes  of  the  storms  in  July  and  August, 
the  "  titiri  lightnings  "  :  z'edarai-titiri,  which,  they 
say,  hatch  the  fish. 

Then  there  was  the  "  perroquet,"  or  parakeet  fish, 
with  its  bands  of  vivid  yellow  and  red  ;  the  cirur- 
gien,  all  blue  and  black  ;  the  souri,  in  pink  and  yel- 
low ;  and  finally,  Adee  pointed  out  the  "  Bon-Die- 
manie-moi"  so-called  by  the  fishermen  :  "the  Good- 
God-handled-me,"  because  it  had  finger-marks  on 
each  side  its  head. 

By  diverting  the  child  in  this  manner,  directing 
her  attention  to  the  manifold  attractions  spread  out 
by  nature,  on  every  side,  Adee  restored  her  to  her 
former  self,  and  it  was  with  composure  that  they 
returned  to  the  shelter  of  the  sugar-house. 


After  months  and  years  of  constant  labor,  M. 
Tascher  succeeded   in  restoring  to  the  devastated 


28  JOSEPHINE. 

plantation  somewhat  of  its  former  aspect  of  exuber- 
ant fertility ;  but,  though  the  ruins  of  the  great- 
house  were  removed,  and  the  hill-slopes  replanted  in 
coffee  and  cane,  neither  the  giant  trees  nor  the 
houses  were  replaced. 

The  struggle  with  nature  was  exhausting  and 
depressing,  for  the  elemental  forces  were  difficult  to 
control,  and  periodically  burst  their  bounds,  destroy- 
ing in  a  day  or  a  night  what  it  had  taken  years  to 
create.  Thus  the  planter  became  the  victim  of 
gloom  and  depression,  and  his  wife  worn  with  the 
unceasing  battle  for  life.  Their  great  joy  was  their 
daughter.  Year  by  year,  Josephine  grew  in  grace 
and  beauty,  developing  into  a  sweet  and  thoughtful 
maiden  ;  full  of  the  tenderness,  the  gentle  gravity, 
so  characteristic  of  the  high-born  Creole. 

At  the  age  of  ten  she  was  almost  arrived  at 
woman's  stature  ;  not  tall,  but  admirably  propor- 
tioned, with  a  flexile,  graceful  figure ;  abundant 
hair  crowned  her  shapely  head  ;  her  hands  and  feet 
were  so  small  and  so  beautiful  that  in  after  years 
Napoleon  never  ceased  to  admire  them.  Although 
sun-kissed  and  breeze-caressed,  from  her  constant 
exercise  in  open  air,  yet  her  complexion  was  rich  and 
delicately-tinted.  In  short,  she  was  strong  and 
healthy,  agile  and  supple,  with  a  mind  as  free  from 
morbid  thoughts  or  impulses  as  her  body  was  from 
taint  of  disease,  or  physical  defect. 

Her  nurse  was  still  her  companion  ;  Adee  had 
kept  pace  with  her  mistress  in  the  development  of 
physical  charms,  and  was  now  a  ripened  Juno,  the 


JOSEPHINE.  29 

envy  of  her  female  companions  and  the  despair  of 
would-be  lovers.  She  guarded  her  as  tenderly  as 
during  the  first  years  of  infancy,  when  she  had  been 
given  into  her  charge  by  the  mother.  She  was  more 
than  mother  to  her,  since  she  gave  her  all  her  time, 
allowed  her  own  rich  life  to  be  absorbed  by  the  other. 
And  Josephine  repaid  her  devotion  with  love  of 
equal  measure  ;  she  was  her  friend  and  confidante, 
not  her  servant.  They  were  inseparable,  they  took 
long  walks  together,  bathed  in  the  same  pool  beneath 
the  ceiba,  sang  and  danced  together. 

It  was  during  one  of  their  long  rambles  late  one 
afternoon,  when  they  had  penetrated  into  the  valley 
farther  than  usual,  that  they  had  an  adventure 
which  made  a  great  impression  upon  Josephine. 
They  had  followed  the  stream  from  the  lower  vale 
till  it  became  a  mere  rivulet,  and  near  its  source, 
perched  on  the  side-hill  under  a  great  gommier  tree, 
saw  a  hut  of  palm  and  cane  leaves.  It  was  little 
more  than  an  ajoupa,  or  sylvan  hut,  to  exterior  view  ; 
but  on  close  approach  it  revealed  a  substantial  con- 
struction and  unexpected  amplitude  within. 

In  front  of  the  ajoupa  sat  a  woman  of  some 
thirty-five  years,  beneath  a  bower  of  plantain 
leaves.  Accompanying  Josephine  and  her  nurse  was 
a  girl  from  Trois-Ilets,  or  Fort  Royal, — probably  her 
father  had  a  city  house  at  the  latter,  and  estate  at 
the  former  bourg, — who  was  frequently  her  com- 
panion. She  was  a  little  older  than  Josephine,  this 
young  lady,  Aimee  Dubec  de  Rivery,  and  belonged 
to  one  of  the  oldest  families  of  the  island. 


30  JOSEPHINE. 

The  proprietress  of  the  hut  invited  them  to  enter, 
and  they  wonderingly  accepted  her  invitation.  She 
was  a  Fille  de  Couleur,  of  attractive  appearance  ; 
a  daughter  of  the  people,  born  with  all  the  inherited 
charms  of  the  mingled  blood  of  Carib,  Negro  and 
Caucasian.  Her  black  eyes  and  hair  had  the  purple 
tint  bestowed  by  the  Carib  ;  her  feet  and  hands  also 
showed  by  their  smallness  and  delicacy  the  aborig- 
inal birthright.  Her  serpentine  movements,  the 
flowing  curves  of  her  figure,  the  silk-like  smooth- 
ness of  her  richly-tinted  skin,  all  proclaimed  her  a 
representative  of  the  island's  best  and  rarest  type.* 

She  was  clad  in  the  holiday  costume  of  the  richest 
of  her  class,  which  revels  in  color  and  startling 
effects.  On  her  head  she  wore  a  turban  of  gay 
"Madras," — a  mouchoir  of  brightest  colors  ;  her 
skirt  or  douillette  was  of  violet  silk  ;  over  her 
shoulders  was  a  foulard  or  shoulder-scarf,  of  costly 
silk  ;  and  this,  as  well  as  the  turban,  was  orna- 
mented with  gold  brooches  and  "trembling-pins.'' 

She  appeared  a  veritable  queen  of  the  forest ;  but 
she  was  really  a  priestess  of  Obeah. 

"  You  did  not  come  for  that  purpose,"  she  said  to 
them,  as  they  seated  themselves  upon  wooden 
benches  ;  "  you  did  not  come  to  have  your  fortunes 
prognosticated,  but  to-day  they  will  be  told  you." 

The  girls  shrank  from  her  touch,  as  she  ventured 

*  Josephine,  when  at  Navarre,  repeated  this  story,  in  substance, 
and  it  is  given  in  various  biographies  of  the  Empress.  Island  tradi- 
tion, however,  makes  the  prophetess  of  Carib,  rather  than  of  African, 
descent. 


JOSEPHINE.  31 

to  take  their  hands  ;  but  Adee,  herself  of  the  same 
class  of  mixed-bloods,  reassured  them  and  bade  them 
not  to  be  afraid. 

"  Why  should  you  be  afraid  ?  It  is  a  good  fortune 
that  I  shall  give  to  both  of  you.  And  first,  you  are 
both  to  be  queens  :  yes,  one  of  you  will  reign  in 
France,  the  other  in  an  Oriental  harem." 

This  preposterous  announcement  at  once  restored 
their  courage,  and  the  girls  entered  with  zest  into 
the  spirit  of  the  occasion.  "Yes,"  proceeded  the 
sibyl,  frowning  at  their  levity,  "good  fortune  will 
at  first  attend  you  both  ;  each  of  you  will  make  a 
long  and  stormy  voyage  ;  each  will  at  first  marry 
happily  ;  but  eventually  one  will  be  released  by  the 
death  of  her  husband,  the  other  will  be  captured  by 
Algerian  pirates  and  sold  to  the  slavery  of  the  Sultan 
of  Turkey.  She  will  acquire  great  influence  with 
him,  and  her  son  will  afterwards  sit  on  the  throne  ; 
but  she  will  die  miserably.  "As  for  you,"  address- 
ing Josephine,  "  as  for  you,  it  is  written  in  the  stars 
that  you  will  become  the  bride  of  the  greatest  man 
the  modern  world  has  seen.  No,  he  is  not  yet  in 
the  world's  eye  ;  his  star  will  rise  coincident  with 
yours.  But  when  yours  sinks,  then  his  also  sets 
beneath  the  horizon.  Go  now  ;  I  have  spoken  ;  you 
do  not  believe  me  ;  but  wait,  wait  yet  twenty  years." 

The  trembling  girls  departed,  vainly  striving  to 
shake  off  the  evil  effect  of  this  intercourse  with  the 
mysterious  woman.  Whether  or  not  this  prediction 
of  the  sibyl  was  ever  uttered,  the  incident  is  found 
in  the  memoirs  of  the  queen  ;  it  cannot  be  ignored. 


32  JOSEPHINE. 

Mademoiselle  Aimee,  was,  it  is  said,  subsequently 
captured  by  Algerian  corsairs,  sold  to  the  Sultan, 
and  became  the  mother  of  one  of  the  numerous  Mo- 
hammeds,  or  Selims,  with  whom  Turkey  has  been 
cursed. 

Silent  and  subdued,  they  pursued  the  valley  path 
to  the  sucrerie  ;  the  sun  had  set,  the  stars  were  out, 
behind  them  the  Southern  Cross  stood  still  above 
the  crest  of  a  hill.  A  black  bird  swooped  across 
their  path,  uttered  a  shrill  shriek  at  sight  of  them, 
and  disappeared.  '  Bon  Di6"*  muttered  Adee, 
crossing  herself,  "  that  was  the  Diablotin." 

*  Die,  island  patois  for  Dieu. 


JOSEPHINE.  33 


CHAPTER  V. 

AT  DIAMOND  ROCK. 

THE  Diablotin,  or  Devil-bird,  has  its  home  in  the 
mountain,  where,  at  the  very  summit,  it  burrows  a 
hole  for  itself.  More  than  two  hundred  years  ago 
it  was  discovered,  yet  to-day  it  is  as  mysterious  as 
ever.  As  night  falls  the  lone  dweller  in  the  mountain 
valley,  or  the  solitary  fisherman  drawing  his  net, 
hears  a  shriek,  as  of  a  despairing  soul,  sees  a  dusky 
figure  sweep  by  him  ;  that  is  all.  Then  he  crosses 
himself,  saying  :  ''The  Devil-bird  is  a- wing,  and  I 
must  seek  a  shelter."  For  days  the  apprehension  of 
evil  to  befall  will  cling  to  him  ;  no  more  firmly  does 
the  Oriental  believe  in  the  malific  virtue  of  the  evil 
eye. 

In  reality,  the  Diablotin  is  a  harmless  bird,  a 
species  of  petrel,  its  home  in  the  mountain-top,  its 
haunts  over  the  turbulent  sea.  But  Adee  was  firm 
in  her  conviction  that  something  harmful  would 
result  from  this  chance  meeting  with  the  Devil-bird  ; 
and  when,  that  night,  Madame  La-Pagerie  told  her 
that  it  had  been  decided  to  send  Josephine  away  to 
school,  she  felt  her  fears  were  verified. 

"  O  Yeyette  mi  "  (addressing  Josephine  by  the 
pet  name  of  the  household),  and  throwing  her  arms 
3 


34  JOSEPHINE. 

around  her  neck  :  "  Yeyette,  ma  fille,  you  will  not 
leave  your  dear  Adee  ?  What  can  the  schools  teach 
you  ?  Do  you  not  already  know  how  to  dance,  to 
sing,  to  play  the  tambou,  to  embroider,  to  whistle 
like  the  birds,  to  run  like  the  agouti  ?  Never,  never 
will  you  be  so  happy  as  you  are  now.  Stay  with  us, 
Yeyette." 

Madame  La-Pagerie  smiled  sadly,  but,  untwining 
the  arms  of  the  loving  pair,  drew  Josephine  to  her 
side  and  set  before  her  the  necessity  of  attending  to 
her  commands.  "You  are  now  a  large  girl,  my 
darling,  I  have  taught  you  all  it  is  possible,  en- 
cumbered as  I  am  with  the  care  of  your  two  sisters ; 
your  education  must  be  finished  at  the  convent.  It 
will  not  be  a  long  separation,  and  besides  you  can 
return  here  every  week,  spending  a  day  with  us. 
Adee  shall  go  with  you  and  return  with  you,  if  you 
desire." 

Her  tears  were  flowing,  for  it  cost  her  a  great 
effort  to  part,  even  temporarily,  from  her  eldest 
daughter.  She  had  been  so  helpful  to  her :  a 
womanly  companion  rather  than  a  little  child  ;  yet 
withal  so  ready  to  engage  in  romp  or  frolic.  Jose- 
phine said  nothing,  but  kissed  her  mother  sub- 
missively, and  was  led  to  her  chamber  by  Adee, 
blinded  by  her  tears.  There  the  two  wept  together, 
and  consoled  each  other  with  the  assurance  that  the 
separation  should  not  be  for  a  long  time,  and  that, 
the  great  scheme  of  education  finished,  Yeyette 
would  return  to  live  with  them  all  her  life. 

There  were  two  convents  of  repute  in  Martinique, 


JOSEPHINE.  35 

that  of  the  Ursulines  at  St.  Pierre,  the  farther  city  ; 
and  another,  the  "  Dames  de  la  Providence,"  at  the 
near  town  of  Fort  Royal.  Here  lived  Josephine's 
grandmother,  with  whom  she  resided  while  attend- 
ing school  at  Fort  Royal,  and  who  cared  for  her 
as  for  her  own  child.  The  years  passed  rapidly ; 
Josephine  was  an  apt  pupil  and  readily  acquired  all 
the  nuns  could  teach  her.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  she 
returned  to  her  home  at  La-Pagerie,  where  she  had 
spent  the  long  vacations. 

Her  two  sisters,  Desiree  and  Marie,  were  then 
aged  respectively  about  twelve  and  ten.  During 
the  years  when  they  might  have  been  her  compan- 
ions she  was  away  at  school ;  thus  it  was  that  Adee 
still  held  the  place  of  elder  sister  in  her  affections. 
The  faithless  Adee,  having  been  in  a  measure 
separated  from  the  idol  of  her  heart,  had  allowed 
one  of  her  numerous  admirers  to  capture  and  carry 
her  away. 

Released  from  school,  Josephine  hastened  to  rejoin 
the  expectant  family  at  La-Pagerie,  and  the  day 
following  the  happy  reunion  an  excursion  was 
planned  to  the  sea-valley  behind  the  hills  where 
Adee,  now  a  matron  and  mother,  was  living  with  her 
husband. 

She  had  sent  invitation  by  special  messenger,  an 
old  African,  who  had  waited  in  order  to  guide  the 
party  over  the  hills.  They  started  at  daybreak  : 
M.  Tascher,  grave  but  kindly,  led  the  little  procession 
mounted  upon  a  Puerto-Rico  pony  ;  behind  him,  in 
hammocks  of  Cayenne  grass  slung  between  poles 


36  JOSEPHINE. 

carried  by  stout  negro-laborers,  were  the  daughters 
of  the  house  of  La-Pagerie,  gay  and  laughing. 

They  took  the  valley  path  until  it  ended  at  a  break 
in  the  hills,  whence  they  descended  towards  the 
open  sea.  Hitherto  in  deep  shade,  owing  to  the 
early  hour  of  their  departure,  the  sun  burst  upon 
them  at  the  hill-crest,  illumining  the  blue  ocean  and 
gilding  the  spires,  the  mountain  peaks,  of  the 
distant  island  of  St.  Lucia,  where  also  M.  Tascher 
had  a  plantation.  The  girls  caught  their  breath  at 
the  beauty  of  the  scene  spread  out  before  them, 
clapped  their  hands  with  joy  at  sight  of  the  new 
world  at  their  feet.  Josephine  was  full  of  elation 
at  the  prospect  of  soon  meeting  with  her  devoted 
nurse.  The  cool  morning  breezes  fanned  her  hair 
and  cheeks,  the  gilt-crested  humming-birds  darted 
at  her  hammock  and  played  around  her  head.  Sweet 
odors  of  honeysuckle  and  frangipanni,  jessamine 
and  acacia,  filled  the  air,  and  the  birds,  the  wrens 
and  siffleurs,  caroled  to  her  as  she  passed  them  by. 

With  a  heart  bursting  with  gladness  and  filled 
with  thanksgivings,  the  girl  reclined  in  her  hammock, 
dreamily  noting  the  shifting  phases  of  the  gliding 
panorama.  The  joyous  slaves  sang  wild  songs  of 
their  native  Africa,  their  deep  bassos  reverberating 
in  the  gorges,  as  they  swung  along,  happy  in  the 
service  of  their  mistress.  At  the  head  of  the  pro- 
cession, now  descending  the  narrow  trail  in  Indian 
file,  strode  the  ancient  African.  He  carried  a  small 
drum,  or  tambou,  made  by  stretching  a  skin  of  some 
wild  animal  over  the  head  of  a  hollowed  log.  As 


JOSEPHINE.  37 

the  sea  opened  to  their  view  he  sent  out  a  note  of 
warning  to  the  dwellers  in  the  valley  :  ' '  Tarn,  tarn, 
tarn,  tarn,  tarn."  It  was  heard  and  answered : 
" Poum,  poum,  poum,  poum  "  "La  calienda!" 
shouted  the  hammock-bearers,  "  The  dance,  the 
African  dance.  Ah,  we  will  have  a  good  time, 
soon." 

Thus,  elated  with  anticipation  of  a  feast  and' 
dance,  the  negroes  hastened  forward,  and  soon  they 
had  reached  the  shore,  where  the  hills  had  drawn 
their  feet  away  from  the  sea  and  left  a  curving 
beach,  backed  by  fertile  meadow  and  bordered  with 
cocoa  palms. 

Beneath  the  palms  was  a  collection  of  grass  huts, 
with  wattled  sides  and  deep-thatched  roofs,  sur- 
rounded with  gardens  of  tropical,  fruits.  Here 
lived  the  freed  negroes  and  colored  people  of  that 
district,  and,  standing  in  the  doorway  of  one  of  the 
newest  of  the  huts,  was  the  Junoesque  figure  of 
Adee.  In  her  arms  was  an  infant,  a  twelvemonth 
child,  naked  as  a  god,  golden  in  hue  as  the  boy  the 
Guiana  Indians  offered  to  the  king  of  El  Dorado. 
With  a  loud  cry  of  joy,  she  ran  forward  to  welcome 
her  darling  Yeyette,  casting  the  astonished  infant 
into  the  hammock,  and  clasping  the  girl  in  her 
arms. 

"Ah,  Yeyette  mi,  my  darling,  light  of  my  eyes, 
my  heart's  idol  !  Adee  thought  she  would  never 
see  you  again."  They  laughed  and  cried,  holding 
each  other  close,  and  then  at  arm's  length,  gazing 
into  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  joy.  When  the 


38  JOSEPHINE. 

paroxysm  had  passed,  Adee  picked  up  the  golden 
infant  and  led  the  way  to  her  house.  Her  husband, 
another  magnificent  specimen  of  the  mixed  race,  a 
brown-skinned  Adonis,  was  introduced,  and  soon 
refreshments  were  brought  the  tired  travelers.  A 
little  black  boy  climbed  a  cocoanut  tree  and  cast  down 
some  "water-nuts,"  then  descending,  he  clipped  off 
the  pointed  end  of  each,  leaving  a  small  round  hole, 
opening  into  the  ivory  geode,  filled  with  sweetest 
water. 

Drinking  this  clear  nectar,  they  were  refreshed, 
and  after  the  hammocks  were  slung  beneath  the 
trees  they  all  took  a  brief  rest,  after  which  the  vis- 
itors were  summoned  to  a  straw-thatched  pavilion, 
where,  spread  upon  a  table,  was  a  banquet,  prepared 
with  all  the  luxuries  of  the  Tropics.  The  air  was 
perfumed  with  the  fragrance  of  pine-apples,  bananas, 
savory  soups  and  delicious  desserts.  M.  Tascher 
presided,  his  eldest  daughter  sat  at  his  right  hand, 
with  her  sisters  opposite,  while  the  happy  Adee,  her 
husband,  and  the  prettiest  girls  in  the  hamlet, 
waited  upon  them.  Breakfast  having  been  served, 
and  the  attendants  having  disposed  of  their  duties 
for  the  day,  a  short  siesta  was  indulged  in,  after 
which  all  repaired  to  a  near  palm  grove,  to  witness, 
and  take  part  in,  if  so  desirous,  the  dance  of  the 
day.  Seated  upon  the  ground,  with  a  back-ground 
of  netted  lianes,  was  the  aged  African  who  had 
been  their  guide.  He  took  a  large  tambou  between 
his  knees  and  began  the  preliminary  call  to  the  cali- 
enda : — Poum,  poum ;  tam-tam-tam,  tam-poum  I " 


JOSEPHINE.  39 

The  hollow  sound  rolled  along  the  plain  and  through 
the  woods,  rising  and  falling,  diminishing  and 
swelling,  with  a  weird  and  powerful  effect.  Billows 
of  sound,  deep  muttering  as  of  distant  thunder,  wild 
calls  of  night-birds,  melancholy  wailings  of  wander- 
ing spirits  :  all  these  seemed  to  be  evoked  from  that 
skin-covered  log.  A  peculiar  quality  of  the  tambou- 
roll  is,  that  it  traverses  vast  distances,  penetrates 
great  areas  of  forest,  impelling  the  listener  to  seek 
out  its  source,  to  assemble  with  his  brothers  for  the 
wild  and  savage  calienda.  Old  "  Fou-fou "  (the 
Crazy-crazy)  had  acquired  the  art  from  an  African 
ancestor,  himself  a  great  chief  of  a  coast-tribe  ;  and 
by  means  of  the  subtle,  fascinating,  and  awe-inspir- 
ing thunder  roll  of  the  tambou,  his  royal  forbear 
had  often  called  his  tribe  to  war. 

Brought  to  America  with  the  imported  slaves,  the 
tambou  still  supplies  the  negro  with  his  simple 
music,  supplemented  sometimes  by  that  evoked 
from  calabash  and  gourd. 

Not  for  many  years  had  old  Crazy-crazy  had  so 
distinguished  an  audience,  and  the  presence  of  the 
master  of  Sannois^  together  with  his  charming 
daughters,  inspired  him  to  unprecedented  feats  of 
skill.  The  protesting  tambou  growled  and  groaned, 
howled  and  moaned,  sent  its  wail  afar  and  its  muffled 
sighs  deep  into  the  earth. 

"  Hark ! "  cried  Adee,  "it  is  the  voice  of  Pelee,  the 
sigh  of  the  demon- jombie,  who  lives  in  the  crater- 
heart  of  the  great  volcano." 

In  truth,  it  seemed  the  very  earth  was  trembling  ; 


40  JOSEPHINE. 

almost  the  awed  listeners  could  fancy  they  heard 
the  ominous  mutterings  of  a  coming  earthquake, 
and  they  shuddered.  For  the  earthquake  was  no 
stranger  to  the  dwellers  in  Martinique. 

Then  old  Fou-fou  sat  astride  the  drum,  tapping  it 
with  his  finger-tips,  caressing  it  with  rapid  passes  of 
his  hands,  and  now  and  then  punishing  it  with  a 
vicious  kick  of  his  naked  heel.  He  broke  into  sav- 
age song,  in  the  chorus  of  which  the  assembled 
negroes  joined  :— 

"  Oh,  yoi'e-yoie ; 
Oh,  miss^-ah, 
Y  bel  tambouy^, 
Ai'e,  ya,  ya'ie, 
Joli  Tambouye." 

The  music  ended  in  a  prolonged  roll,  dying  to  a 
moan,  a  sigh,  fainter  and  fainter,  until  lost  in  the 
forest-depths.  The  African  fell  from  his  drum 
prone  upon  the  ground,  and  with  a  sigh  of  relief  his 
auditors  left  him,  seeking  more  cheerful  entertain- 
ment. 


Before  the  huts  lay  a  crescent  of  sand,  hot  and 
glistering  in  the  sun  of  midday  ;  but  beginning  to 
be  cool  in  the  shadows  of  the  cliffs,  as  mid- afternoon 
was  reached.  The  waves  gently  lapped  its  golden 
floor,  inviting  the  children  to  wade  in  their  foam, 
to  embark  upon  their  bosom. 

Isolate  in  the  waters  of  the  bay,  a  mile  away  or 
so,  rose  a  great  rock,  like  a  pyramid,  and  five  hun- 
dred feet  in  height. 


DIAMOND  ROCK. 


JOSEPHINE.  41 

"That  is  'Diamond  Kock,'"  said  M.  Tascher, 
pointing  to  it :  "La  Roche  du  Diamante.  Do  not 
you  remember,  Yeyette,  the  story  of  its  capture,  by 
the  English,  some  twenty  years  ago?  When  the 
French  and  English  were  at  war,  and  when  the 
fleets  of  both  great  powers  were  scouring  these  seas 
in  search  of  prey,  some  of  our  smaller  vessels  used 
to  escape  the  enemy  by  sailing  between  that  rock 
and  the  mainland,  thus  reaching  unharmed  the  port 
of  Fort  Royal,  which  is  just  behind  that  promon- 
tory. This  occurred  so  frequently  that  the  British 
commander,  Lord  Howe,  vowed  he  would  stop  it,  if 
it  took  all  the  sailors  of  his  fleet.  So  he  sent  a  mid- 
shipman there,  with  a  picked  body  of  men,  who 
hoisted  several  guns  to  the  summit  of  the  rock,  and 
who,  for  over  a  year,  commanded  the  channel.  We 
could  not  dislodge  them,  the  rock  is  so  steep,  and 
they  annoyed  us  exceedingly.  But  finally  the  Eng- 
lish admiral  sailed  away  and  forgot  them,  and,  as 
they  were  only  provisioned  for  a  limited  time,  they 
capitulated  to  our  commander  at  the  Fort.  It  is 
said  that  the  rock  was  entered  on  the  British  Ad- 
miralty lists  as  'His  Majesty's  Ship,  Diamond- 
Rock,'  and  its  brave  defenders  rated  as  the  crew  of 
a  ship-of-war." 

"Mafoi!"  exclaimed  Yeyette,  "but  they  were 
brave  men.  How  I  should  like  to  have  met  them  ! 
Cannot  we  go  over  to  the  rock  ? " 

"  Is  it  safe,  Adee  ?    Do  your  boats  ever  go  there  ? " 

"Yes,  indeed.  We  can  reach  it  in  half  an  hour. 
Charles,  get  the  canoe."  A  great  canoe,  hewn 


42  JOSEPHINE. 

from  a  huge  gommier  tree,  was  quickly  brought 
around  from  the  river,  and  into  it  they  all  climbed, 
with  cries  of  joy.  Three  bronze  sailors  paddled  so 
lustily  that  they  were  soon  under  the  lee  of  the  Eock, 
and  shortly  ashore,  in  a  sheltered  rift.  There  was 
not  much  to  see  at  the  marge,  so  Yeyette  wished  to 
climb  the  narrow  path,  which  wound  around  the 
cliff  like  a  thread. 

"  I  don't  think  it  would  be  safe,"  said  Adee  ;  "  but 
we  can  go  a  little  way.  But  have  a  care,  my  child  ; 
the  rock  is  very  steep." 

"Never  fear,  but  follow  me,"  cried  Yeyette,  and 
she  was  already  a  hundred  feet  up  the  height  before 
her  father,  who  had  been  hidden  behind  a  project- 
ing rock,  saw  and  shouted  to  her  to  descend. 

She  laughed  and  kissed  her  hand  to  him,  but 
climbed  breathlessly  on.  Half-way  up,  the  trail  ab- 
ruptly ended  ;  the  rock  had  been  dislodged  in  some 
earthquake.  The  shelf  of  rock  upon  which  she  stood 
was  so  narrow  she  could  not  turn,  and  glancing 
about  her  fearfully,  she  caught  sight  of  the  white 
waves,  two  hundred  feet  below,  snarling  at  the  base 
of  the  precipice.  This  sight  made  her  dizzy  ;  her 
head  reeled,  she  would  have  fallen,  had  not  Adee, 
who  was  close  behind,  quickly  caught  and  steadied 
her.  A  moment,  only,  they  hung  above  the  white- 
fanged  waves,  leaping  and  gnawing  at  the  rocks 
below  ;  then,  held  in  her  nurse's  arms,  Josephine 
retreated  to  a  broader  ledge,  where  she  recovered 
from  her  fright. 

Sobered  by  this  incident,  she  descended  to  join  the 


JOSEPHINE.  43 

group  below,  and  her  father,  having  no  words  with 
which  to  rebuke  her,  folded  her  in  his  arms.  Trem- 
bling in  his  embrace,  her  face  hidden  against  his 
shoulder,  Josephine  then  realized  what  a  refuge  and 
strength  was  this  grave  and  tender  parent,  whose 
love  was  too  deep  for  words,  whose  life  was  devoted 
entirely  to  her  happiness. 

The  canotiers  bore  them  swiftly  to  the  beach, 
whence,  after  a  brief  tarry  for  refreshment,  the 
planter  and  his  daughters  departed  for  their  home. 
The  sun  had  set  beneath  the  waves  ere  they  reached 
the  hill-crests  above  La-Pagerie,  and  their  descent  was 
made  in  the  dusk.  But  the  villagers  accompanied 
them  with  torches  of  fragrant  gommier  gum,  which 
flickered  and  fitfully  illumined  the  recesses  of  the 
woods,  where  the  serpents  lurked,  and  from  which 
came  out  heavy  perfumes  of  wild  flowers  and 
strange  nocturnal  noises.  Old  Fou-fou,  who  had  re- 
covered, marched  at  the  head  of  the  company  ;  the 
weird  music  of  his  tambou  throbbed  through  the 
still  air  ;  as  it  pulsated,  all  the  night,  through  Jose- 
phine's journey  in  dream-land. 


44  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LA  BELLE   CREOLE. 

"NATURE,  rich  and  sumptuous,  has  covered  our 
fields  with  a  carpeting,  which  charms  as  well  by  the 
variety  of  its  colors  as  its  objects.  She  has  strewn 
the  banks  of  our  rivers  with  flowers,  and  has  planted 
the  freshest  forest  around  our  fertile  borders.  .  .  I 
love  to  hide  myself  in  the  green  woods  that  skirt  our 
dwelling-place." 

Thus  wrote  Josephine  to  a  friend  of  her  youth. 
She  was  unspoiled  by  society,  untouched  by  the 
vanities  of  the  world.  She  was  a  child  of  nature  : 
everything  around  her,  sentient  or  inanimate, 

contributed  to  her  enjoyment If  we  were 

to  look  ahead  of  our  narrative  some  twenty  years, 
and  transfer  our  view  to  Malmaison,  that  retreat  in 
France  to  which  she  hastened  at  every  opportunity 
when  she  could  escape  the  cares  of  the  court,  and 
where  she  finally  passed  her  closing  days, — we 
should  find  ample  evidence  that  her  love  for  nature 
was  yet  strong  within  her.  When  she  went  to 
France,  either  on  her  first  or  second  voyage,  she 
took  with  her  such  specimens  of  the  plants  around 
La-Pagerie  as  were  endeared  to  her  by  the  perfumes 
of  their  flowers,  or  to  which  she  was  attached  from 


JOSEPHINE.  45 

sentimental  associations.  "The  gardens  of  Mal- 
inaison,  during  her  lifetime,  resembled  a  veritable 
Eden.  It  was  her  daily  habit  to  visit  her  exotic 
plants,  to  watch  over  and  water  them  ;  and  these 
she  called  her  'great  family,'  displaying  the  most 
intimate  knowledge  of  their  life,  history  and  names, 
and  sometimes  playfully  rallying  the  Emperor 
(Napoleon)  upon  his  ignorance  of  botany."  From 
every  source,  she  received  presents  of  rare  plants  ; 
but  that  which  was  particularly  endeared  to  her  was 
one  she  herself  had  carried  to  France, — the  amaryl- 
lis  gigantea,  and  which  attracted  great  attention, 
from  the  beauty  and  fragrance  of  its  flowers.  This 
royal  plant  grew  in  profusion  around  La-Pagerie  ; 
and  a  thousand  others  adorned  the  slopes  of  the  hills 
and  bordered  the  stream  flowing  past  the  sucrerie. 

After  her  conventual  life  at  Fort  Royal,  with  now 
and  then  a  dip  into  the  placid  waters  of  the  society 
gathered  at  the  Capital,  her  residence  at  the  planta- 
tion might  have  seemed  monotonous ;  but  there  is 
no  evidence  of  this  in  the  imperfect  records  of  this 
period  of  her  youth.  Hers  was  a  healthy  and  excep- 
tionally happy  nature,  with  no  craving  for  what 
was  hidden  from  her  view,  and  no  yearning  after 
the  presumably  unattainable.  It  is  in  seclusion 
such  as  that  in  which  her  youth  was  passed,  that 
the  greatest  men  and  women  have  been  nurtured. 
Nature  is  a  generous  mother  to  those  who  will  but 
cast  themselves  upon  her  bosom  and  imbibe  from 
her  primeval  fonts.  Without  the  distractions 
of  the  city,  with  no  dissipating  demands  from 


46  JOSEPHINE. 

society,  nature's  children  devote  their  time  to  add- 
ing to  their  knowledge  of  the  things  immediately 
about  them,  to  widening  their  powers  of  observa- 
tion,— in  truth,  to  becoming  acquainted  with  the 
great  and  primal  facts,  the  eternal  verities.  All 
knowledge  is  cumulative  ;  during  long  centuries, 
nature  had  been  writing  her  book,  for  this  child  to 
read.  During  generations  past  and  preceding,  her 
ancestors  had  gathered  to  themselves  the  best  about 
them,  and  had  transmitted  to  her  the  increment. 
In  her,  first,  their  rich  and  generous  lives  found 
expression  :  Josephine  was  their  Amaranth.  It  was 
this  strong  hold  on  nature,  this  stability  derived  from 
a  virile  ancestry,  that  enabled  Josephine  to  with- 
stand the  assaults  of  innumerable  foes,  during  the 
period  of  the  Revolution,  the  Directory,  and  the  Im- 
perial regime. 

At  fifteen  years  of  age,  Josephine  had  fulfilled  all 
the  expectations  of  those  who  had  watched  the  bud- 
ding charms  of  her  infancy  and  childhood.  The  bud 
had  opened  into  bloom  of  rarest  worth  ;  the  heart  of 
the  rose  was  not  more  sweet  and  fragrant  than  her 
fresh  loveliness.  Like  the  flowers  around  her,  she 
bloomed  for  the  delectation  of  those  who  might  be- 
hold her  beauty.  Like  them,  also,  she  was  uncon- 
scious of  her  loveliness,  which  displayed  itself  in  her 
grace  of  manner  as  well  as  in  purety  physical  sym- 
metry. 

The  slaves  were  all  devoted  to  her,  and  vied  with 
one  another  in  her  praise.  "  Toujour  content,  tou- 
jour  joyeuse,"  she  flitted  in  and  out  their  humble 


JOSEPHINE.  47 

cabins,  an  angel  of  mercy  to  the  old  and  decrepit,  a 
joyous  spirit  to  the  young,  as  well. 

The  fame  of  "  La  Belle  Creole,"  was  not  confined 
to  the  island-bounds  but  extended  across  the  seas, 
to  France,  where  her  aunt,  Madame  Eenaudine,  re- 
sided, and  who  insisted  that  her  niece  should  join 
her  there.  There  is  no  evidence  to  show  that  Jose- 
phine was  desirous,  at  first,  of  going  to  France,  but 
much  to  indicate  her  great  unwillingness.  Her 
mother,  having  in  mind  her  future,  and  knowing 
only  too  well  the  terrible  cares  and  responsibilities 
of  plantation  life,  was  most  favorably  impressed 
with  the  invitation  from  the  aunt,  and  soon  under- 
took to  prepare  her  daughter  for  the  voyage. 

She  was  not  cold  nor  calculating ;  but  she  may 
have  taken  heed  to  the  aunt's  suggestion  that  it 
was  time  for  her  niece  to  marry,  and  that  she  had 
already  selected  a  worthy  companion  for  her,  in  the 
person  of  young  Beauharnais.  .  .  The  records  of  the 
parish  church  of  Saint  Louis,  at  Fort  Royal,  show 
that  there  was  baptized  there,  in  June,  1760,  an  in- 
fant born  the  month  preceding,  upon  whom  was  be- 
stowed the  name  of  Alexandre  de  Beauharnais. 
Josephine's  aunt,  Madame  Renaudine,  was  this 
infant's  godmother,  and  later,  in  France,  became  the 
wife  of  the  Marquis  de  Beauharnais,  the  child's 
father. 

The  Marquis  de  Beauharnais,  then  acting  as  gov- 
ernor of  Martinique,  left  for  France  the  following 
year,  but  his  son  was  committed  to  the  charge  of 
Josephine's  aunt  and  her  grandmother.  Madame  de 


48  JOSEPHINE. 

La-Pagerie,  then  residing  at  Fort  Royal.  When 
Josephine  was  attending  school  at  the  convent,  as 
she  passed  her  nights  and  some  of  the  holidays  with 
her  grandmother,  she  must  have  heard  a  great  deal 
of  the  young  Alexander  ;  but  never  met  him,  as  he 
was  sent  to  France  while  very  young. 

This,  then,  is  the  extent  of  the  acquaintanceship 
of  these  young  Creoles,  who  were  later  to  be  joined 
in  the  bonds  of  matrimony. 

We  will  not  anticipate  the  sorrowful  days,  for 
they  came  all  too  soon  ;  but  turn  again  to  the  happy 
ones  passed  at  La-Pagerie.  Josephine  resisted  the 
entreaties  of  her  aunt  and  the  disinterested  advice 
of  her  mother  for  nearly  a  year,  content  to  dwell  with 
her  parents,  even  though  thus  isolated  from  the 
world  of  society.  Her  life  was  simple  and  regulated 
according  to  the  'Creole  itinerary  :  in  the  morning 
the  cool  bath  in  the  stream  ;  the  forenoon  devoted 
to  the  little  duties  of  the  household  ;  noon  to  break- 
fast, followed  by  the  siesta  ;  late  afternoon  to  inter- 
change of  visits  with  the  dwellers  on  neighboring 
estates,  and  evening  to  dinner  and  social  recreation, 
such  as  music,  reading,  and  especially  dancing,  of 
which  Josephine  was  inordinately  fond. 

Although  La-Pagerie  was  almost  as  secluded  as 
the  "  Happy- Valley  "  in  which  dwelt  that  unhappy 
Prince  of  Abyssinia,  yet,  she  did  not  sigh,  like  Kas- 
selas,  for  the  world  outside,  nor  try  to  burst  its 
rocky  bounds.  The  "Prince"  came  to  the  valley, 
though,  tradition  tells  us,  and  carried  away  with  him 
an  ineffaceable  impression  of  her  charms. 


JOSEPHINE.  49 

Beneath  a  precipitous  rock  rising  sheer  above 
the  stream  in  the  valley  above  the  sucrerie,  and 
under  the  shade  of  the  broad -armed  ceiba  trees, 
was — still  is — the  pool  in  which,  every  morning,  Jo- 
sephine and  her  maid  took  their  matutinal  bath. 
The  great  rock  is  masked  in  vines,  from  its  crevices 
spring  out  glossy-leaved  "fig"  trees,  and  huge  wild- 
pines  sit  astride  their  limbs,  holding  within  their 
cup-shaped  leaves  the  purest  water.  From  rock  to 
ceiba  tree  stretch  the  cables  and  cordage  of  long 
lianes,  these  also  hung  with  filamentous  ferns  and 
rich-hued  orchids.  Beneath  this  tent-like  canopy, 
purling  quietly  in  the  seclusion  of  this  perfumed 
bower,  the  glassy  surface  of  the  pool  reflected  the 
flower  and  foliage  overhead.  No  one  often  disturbed 
the  sanctity  of  this  retreat,  for  it  was  held  as  sacred 
to  Josephine  ;  the  slaves  had  been  forbidden,  under 
severest  penalties  ;  and  few  strangers  ever  visited 
the  valley. 

Loosely  wrapped  in  their  bath-robes,  their  feet 
thrust  into  hempen-soled  slippers,  Josephine  and  her 
maid  tripped  gayly  up  the  valley  path  to  the  pool,  one 
morning  in  May.  The  sun  was  still  hidden  behind 
the  bulk  of  the  gloomy  Trochon  Peak  and  the 
valley  held  the  mists  as  in  a  cup,  level  with  the  tops 
of  the  hills.  The  air  was  sweet  with  the  fragrance 
of  the  shell-tinted  frangipanni,  the  flambeau-trees 
flamed  in  scarlet  masses  by  the  river-side;  the 
matin  music  of  birds  rose  from  the  enveloping 
mists. 

Reaching  the  pool,  they  cast  aside  their  wraps, 
4 


50  JOSEPHINE. 

and  cautiously  ventured  into  the  chill  water.  Great 
bowlders  ringed  the  pool  around,  but  in  its  center 
was  a  bed  of  sand,  where  the  water  was  about  up  to 
their  shoulders  as  they  stood  erect.  A  group  of 
ecrevisse — or  crayfish — had  gathered  here,  but  at 
sight  of  the  invaders  they  scampered  to  the  shelters 
of  the  rocks,  whence  they  peered  out  sullenly,  wrig- 
gling their  feelers  nervously.  One,  bolder  than  the 
rest,  sallied  forth  and  nipped  the  future  empress' 
little  toe,  thinking — and  rightly — that  it  was  a 
bonne-bouche  worth  some  risk  to  reach. 

Josephine  shrieked  and  fell  into  the  water,  where 
she  lay  immersed,  all  but  her  dainty  head,  while  the 
maid  sought  out  and  chased  back  to  his  retreat  the 
bold  freebooter  of  the  stream. 

Floating  in  ecstatic  abandon  thus,  beneath  the 
o'erarching  mosaic  of  flower  and  leaf,  Josephine 
was  espied  by  a  diminutive  humming-bird,  who, 
with  shrill  chirps  of  alarm,  darted  at  her  face.  She 
instinctively  shielded  her  eyes  with  one  hand  as  he 
flew  so  swiftly  at  her  ;  but  he  poised  himself  a  foot 
away,  a-wing  in  mid-air,  still  uttering  his  angry 
chirps  of  indignant  protest. 

His  buzzing  wings  formed  a  halo  of  mist  about 
the  emerald  body,  and  his  pointed  helmet  gleamed 
like  a  gem. 

"He  must  have  a  nest  near,"  said  the  maid; 
"yes,  there  it  is,  right  over  your  face.  Look,  and 
there's  his  little  wife,  sitting,  I  dare  say,  on  their 
eggs."  She  reached  up  and  drew  down  a  length  of 
liane,  at  which  the  female  darted  away,  revealing, 


JOSEPHINE.  51 

inside  a  dainty  cup  of  lichen-covered  down,  two  eggs 
as  small  and  white  as  pearls. 

"  Pauv'  petit,''1  exclaimed  Josephine,  as  she  rose 
to  look  at  them.  "  Don't  touch  them,  Fifine  ;  don't 
harm  the  little  darlings.  Come,  we'll  go  away  ;  our 
presence  here  disturbs  these  pretty  creatures." 

The  little  husband  with  the  gilded  crest  had 
perched  himself  in  a  loop  of  liane,  where  he  sat 
watching  ;  but  as  Josephine  and  her  companion 
turned  towards  the  bowlder  upon  which  they  had 
thrown  their  robes,  he  darted  before  them  swift  as 
light.  His  excited  manner,  his  eccentric  move- 
ments, and  his  alarm-cries,  attracted  their  attention. 
Something  more  than  their  mere  presence  had 
caused  this  sudden  change  in  his  behavior.  Sud- 
denly he  darted  downward ;  rose,  dropped  again  ; 
his  cries  were  now  mingled  with  another  sound, — 
the  dreaded  hiss  of  the  serpent. 

"  Look,  Yeyette,  there  !  close  to  my  robe.  Don't 
you  see  ?  Ah,  Mon  Die  I  It  is  the  Fer-de-Lance  I " 

Stunned,  stupefied,  Josephine  saw  that  terrible 
apparition ;  saw  its  broad  flat  head,  its  darting 
tongue  of  flame,  its  slimy  folds  ;  and,  overcome  with 
the  horror  of  its  presence,  fainted  in  her  servant's 
arms. 

The  maid  retreated  to  the  deeper  water  of  the 
pool,  supporting  her  precious  burden  with  difficulty, 
her  own  limbs  benumbed  and  chilled. 

' '  Help  !  help  1  Come  quickly.  To  the  bathing- 
place.  The  serpent  is  here.  Yeyette  has  fainted  ! " 

She  sent  her  cries  out  into  the  morning  air  ;  but 


52  JOSEPHINE. 

at  first  there  was  no  response.  The  negroes  were 
away  in  the  fields,  and  M.  Tascher  had  gone  to 
Trois-Ilets. 

Meanwhile,  the  gallant  humming-bird  persisted 
in  his  attack  upon  the  common  foe,  with  well- 
directed  thrusts  of  his  needle-pointed  beak.  Swift 
as  lightning,  he  returned  again  and  again  to  the 
attack,  blinding  the  serpent  with  repeated  thrusts, 
like  javelins  thrown  into  his  eyes,  and  eluding  his 
angry  fangs  by  the  dexterity  of  his  movements. 
The  humming-bird's  attempts  at  diversion  only 
partially  succeeded,  however ;  never  for  a  moment 
did  the  serpent  lose  sight  of  his  prospective  prey  in 
the  water.  Slowly,  yet  surely,  he  glided  towards 
the  half -fainting  Fifine  and  her  unconscious  charge. 
"  Holy  Mother  ;  and  the  Fer-de-Lance  can  swim  ! 
He  will  surely  reach  us  ;  then " 

But  there  was  no  retreat ;  the  great  rocks  hemmed 
her  in  ;  the  serpent  was  within  a  dozen  feet  of  her. 
In  sheer  despair  Fifine  sent  one  last  cry  for  help, 
which  a  mocking  echo  caught  and  returned  to  her. 

But  hark  !    Was  not  that  an  answer  ? 

"  Where  are  you?    Who  is  it  ?    What?" 

"Here — at  the  bathing-place.  Oh,  come  at  once. 
We  are  lost  !  The  serpent —  It  was  already 
entering  the  water  ;  slowly  each  sinuous  fold  melted 
into  the  pool ;  as  if,  sure  of  its  victim,  the  Fer-de- 
Lance  wished  to  prolong  the  enjoyment  of  her 
agony. 

There  was  a  sound  of  approaching  footsteps,  a 
crashing  of  the  bushes  on  the  brink  ;  a  man's  face 


JOSEPHINE.  53 

appeared.  In  one  swift  glance  its  owner  took  in 
the  situation.  There  was  a  loud  report ;  the  surface 
of  the  pool  was  torn  into  foam  by  plunging  shot ; 
the  serpent  lay  stretched  upon  the  water,  mangled 
and  bleeding.  Quickly  snatching  one  of  the  robes 
from  the  rock,  the  rescuer  plunged  into  the  pool, 
enwrapping  the  form  of  Josephine,  as  the  maid's 
nerveless  arms  relaxed  their  hold,  and  bore  her  to 
the  bank.  He  was  about  stooping  over  to  chafe  her 
hands,  when,  turning  to  look  back,  he  saw  Fifine  in 
greater  peril.  She  had  fainted  at  the  moment  of 
rescue  ;  the  body  of  the  serpent  had  drifted  against 
her  breast, — a  repulsive  object,  that  slimy,  checkered 
skin,  against  a  form  as  beautiful  as  Dian's  own, 
though  golden  bronze  in  hue.  It  was  the  work  of 
a  moment  only  to  draw  her  from  the  water,  and 
once  on  the  bank  her  robust  constitution  asserted 
itself.  Her  eyelids  quivered,  a  tremulous  sigh 
escaped  her  lips.  At  the  first  sign  of  returning  con- 
sciousness, the  rescuer  desisted  from  his  labors  to 
hasten  the  recovery  of  her  mistress,  and  withdrew. 
Fifine  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  retreating  form,  as 
she  opened  her  eyes,  but  as  soon  as  she  was  on  her 
feet  he  had  disappeared.  Forgetting,  in  the  excite- 
ment of  that  moment,  all  else  than  that  Yeyette 
was  in  need  of  her  assistance,  she  bent  all  her  ener- 
gies to  bring  her  back  to  life.  She  was  soon  re- 
warded. Josephine  opened  her  eyes  and  looked 
wonderingly  about  her.  Placing  a  finger  warniugly 
on  her  lips,  Fifine  cautioned  her  to  keep  silence, 
standing  between  her  and  the  pool/  where  the 


54  JOSEPHINE. 

serpent  still  floated,  that  she  might  have  no  reminder 
of  the  dreadful  accident.  They  had  barely  recovered 
their  composure,  before  Madame  Tascher  came  fly- 
ing towards  them,  having  been  sent  thither  by 
their  unknown  savior.* 

*  The  description  of  the  bathing-pool  is  from  the  author's  notes, 
made  in  1878,  while  on  the  Sannois  estate,  and  the  adventure  with 
the  serpent  from  tradition,  as  narrated  by  a  descendant  of  one  of  the 
La-Pagerie  slaves. 


THE  ANCIENNE  CUISINE. 


JOSEPHINE.  55 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   PICNIC  AT  THE   CARBET-PEAKS. 

ACROSS  the  bay  of  Trois-Ilets,  rising  in  the  distance 
high  above  the  wrinkled  hills  of  the  coast,  rose  the 
majestic  bulk  of  the  Carbet-Peaks.  Its  shadow,  of 
a  morning,  traveled  across  the  lowland  in  advance 
of  the  rising  sun,  till  it  lost  itself  far  out  at  sea. 
Having  climbed  above  that  mountain  sentinel,  hav- 
ing dissipated  the  mists  of  all  its  valleys  and 
penetrated  the  gloomy  gorges  that  seam  its  eastern 
slopes,  the  sun  had  no  other  concern  with  Marti- 
nique, save  to  diffuse  its  heat  and  light  all  over  the 
island.  No  other  obstruction  offered  to  its  passage 
across  the  zenith,  and  its  descent  of  the  western  sky, 
until  it  had  buried  its  glowing  face  in  the  far  distant 
wave-line  of  the  horizon. 

The  highest  mountain  in  the  island,  itself  a  con- 
geries of  mountains,  is  Mont-Pelee,  4,500  feet  in 
height :  a  volcano  quiescent.  Other  volcanic  peaks 
rise  above  the  line  of  the  mountain-mass,  by  scores, 
giving  that  diversified  character  to  the  surface  which 
distinguishes  all  the  isles  of  the  Caribees,  and  a 
climate  varying  with  the  altitude.  From  coast  to 
mountain-top,  the  temperature  sinks  as  the  traveler 
ascends,  until  an  agreeable  mean  is  found  at  some 
two  thousand  feet. 


56  JOSEPHINE. 

Toward  the  latter  part  of  May,  in  the  year  1778, 
the  proprietor  of  La-Pagerie  decided  to  give  his 
family  the  pleasure  of  a  picnic  on  the  slopes  of  the 
higher  hills.  The  extensive  preparations  which  he 
considered  necessary  might  cause  a  smile  to  one  at 
the  present  day,  when  excursions  of  a  hundred  miles 
are  taken  almost  on  the  spur  of  the  moment ;  but 
to  the  dweller  at  Trois-Ilets  the  event  was  as  mo- 
mentous, almost,  as  a  journey  to  France.  A  body 
of  slaves,  the  bulk  of  whom  were  to  have  a  holiday, 
was  sent  ahead  the  day  before  to  clear  a  trail  and  a 
space  on  one  of  the  lateral  ridges  beneath  the  well- 
known  ' '  maroon-tree. "  Another  group  was  detained 
to  manage  the  canoes  and  carry  the  equipment  of 
the  party,  while  still  another  was  reserved  as  ham- 
mock-bearers and  hostlers.  For  nearly  a  week, 
Madame  de  La-Pagerie  had  been  extremely  busy  in 
preparing  the  food  for  the  expedition  :  in  issuing 
invitations  to  the  proprietors  of  adjacent  estates, 
and  also  to  some  of  the  residents  of  the  Fort.  At 
last,  all  was  ready  :  at  daylight,  the  expectant  people 
gathered  at  the  shore,  transferred  themselves  to  the 
canoes,  and  set  off  across  the  bay.  All  were  happy, 
the  younger  members  of  the  party  bubbling  over  with 
excitement.  The  French  character  asserted  itself 
in  bursts  of  song,  in  wild  speculation  as  to  the  de- 
lights of  the  unknown  hills  to  which  they  were  going, 
in  frolic,  jest  and  repartee.  The  largest  canoe, 
hewn  by  the  labor  of  M.  Tascher's  own  slaves,  from 
a  monarch  of  the  mountain- forests,  contained  the 
La-Pagerie  family  and  that  of  the  proprietor  of  an 


JOSEPHINE.  57 

estate  adjacent  to  Sannois,  an  English  gentleman  of 
means,  an  exile  temporarily  from  his  country,  owing 
to  his  adherence  to  a  defeated  cause. 

This  gentleman  and  his  wife,  who  had  become 
well-known  through  their  hospitality,  shall  be  dis- 
missed with  this  passing  mention  ;  but  not  so  their 
son,  a  young  man  about  two  years  the  senior  of 
Josephine,  who  then  appeared  to  her  the  embodiment 
of  all  the  manly  virtues.  Her  eyes  watched  his 
every  movement  as  he  assisted  the  ladies  to  their 
places  in  the  canoe,  and  for  him  she  reserved  a  seat 
by  her  side,  which  he  appropriated  as  the  canoe  was 
pushed  off  from  the  shore.  And  while  the  gay  party 
is  being  ferried  across  to  the  Fort,  let  us  inquire 
why  this  apparent  attachment  which  leads  them  to 
prefer  their  own  company  to  that  of  the  others. 

In  a  word  :  this  was  the  young  man  whose  oppor- 
tune arrival  at  the  bath,  on  that  fateful  morning 
when  the  serpent  had  appeared,  had  probably  saved 
the  life  of  the  eldest  daughter  of  La-Pagerie. 

He  had  modestly  withdrawn  himself  from  obser- 
vation, after  warning  and  accompanying  Madame 
de  La-Pagerie  to  the  pool ;  but  he  could  not  conceal 
his  identity.  After  Josephine's  complete  recovery, 
she  had  sent  for  him,  and  had  thanked  him,  with 
all  that  grace  of  manner  which  in  after  years  capt- 
ured the  heart  of  the  conqueror  of  Europe. 

Was  it  strange  that  the  young  man  was  thence- 
forth her  devoted  slave,  that  his  heart  leaped  out  to 
meet  hers,  that  love,  ardent  and  irresistible,  took 
possession  of  his  being  ?  And,  was  it  to  be  wondered 


58  JOSEPHINE. 

at  that,  viewing  him  as  she  did,  in  the  light  of  a 
rescuer,  an  interest  in  him  should  be  awakened  that 
might  lead  to  love  ?  It  might  be  said  of  her,  as  has 
been  said  of  one  who  afterwards  shone  at  her  own 
court  in  France  :  "  The  source  of  her  power,  as  also 
of  her  weakness,  lay  in  her  vast  capacity  for  love." 
It  is  certain  that  she  viewed  him  with  great  favor, 
and  that  her  parents  were  very  anxious  to  divert 
her  from  what  might  become  a  hopeless  passion. 
Both  were  young,  both  impressionable,  both  were 
exteriorly  attractive,  and  both  were  eager  for  con- 
genial companionship. 

They  had  known  each  other  since  earliest  child- 
hood, but  an  interval  of  absence  had  separated  them, 
while  he  was  away  in  England.  His  recent  return, 
his  hunting  excursion  in  the  valley  of  Sannois, 
which  had  led  him  to  his  fate,  they  could  not  but 
regard  as  more  than  fortuitous.  Lovers  always 
surround  themselves  with  a  cloud  of  occult  reason- 
ing :  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  they  have 
been  divinely  led. 

They  did  not  follow  out  this  mode  of  reasoning  to 
its  inevitable  ending  ;  but  their  parents  did.  From 
different  motives,  the  parents  of  each  were  opposed 
to  what  apparently  would  be  a  desirable  match. 
They  cast  anxious  glances  at  the  young  couple, 
already  oblivious  to  their  surroundings,  even  un- 
aware that  the  little  god  was  hovering  over  them, 
his  arrows  aimed  at  their  hearts. 

There  is  no  more  blissful  state  than  that  into 
which  Cupid  plunges  his  intended  victims :  the 


JOSEPHINE.  59 

world  contracts,  its  horizon  shuts  them  in  ;  they 
two  only  inhabit  this  mundane  sphere.  Josephine's 
lover  had  already  reached  the  stage  of  obliviousness 
to  surroundings  which  precedes  the  last  and  acute 
stage  of  intense  desire.  Their  parents  resolved  to 
nip  this  would-be  blossom  in  the  bud,  before  it  should 
be  too  late  ;  but  for  this  day  these  two  were  to  be 
together.  They  did  not  dream  of  the  cruel  fate 
provided  for  them  by  parental  solicitude,  but  aban- 
doned themselves  to  the  pleasures  of  the  day,  and 
of  each  other's  society. 

Fort  Eoyal  was  soon  reached,  and  at  the  shore 
they  found  friends  to  meet  them.  There  was 
Josephine's  grandmother,  Mme.  de  La-Pagerie,  at 
whose  house  she  always  had  a  second  home  ;  her 
unmarried  aunt,  Mile.  Rosette  de  La-Pagerie,  and 
her  father's  influential  brother,  Baron  de  Tascher, 
known  as  the  Chevalier.  He  was  commander  of  the 
Fort,  then  considered  one  of  the  most  important  of 
the  French  possessions  in  the  New  World,  and  for 
his  distinguished  services  in  the  army  had  been 
decorated  with  the  Cross  of  Saint  Louis. 

With  them,  the  party  from  La-Pagerie  had 
brought  Josephine's  grandmother  on  the  maternal 
side,  Madame  de  Sannois,  who  was  to  stay  with 
Mme.  de  La-Pagerie,  at  the  Fort,  while  the  younger 
members  were  absent  in  the  hills.  This  old  lady  was 
the  last  of  the  name  then  resident  in  the  valley  of 
Sannois,  which  had  been  the  dower  of  her  daughter 
on  the  event  of  her  marriage  to  M.  Tascher,  and  had 
descended  from  the  first  of  the  name,  who  had  come 


60  JOSEPHINE. 

to  Martinique  from  the  island  of  St.  Christopher, 
about  the  year  1690.* 

Three  generations  were  then  present  at  that 
happy  reunion  at  the  Fort.  Who  could  have  anti- 
cipated that  she  who  was  one  of  the  youngest  and  at 
that  time  only  distinguished  by  her  gayety  and  good- 
ness of  heart,  her  happy  smile  and  graceful  move- 
ments, was  to  eclipse  the  fame  of  even  the  Baron 
and  Chevalier?  Josephine  moved  about  with  a 
smile  of  greeting  for  all  ;  she  had  many  admirers 
and  she  served  them  all  alike.  None  had  made  any 
impression,  except  it  were  the  young  Englishman, 
to  whom  she  was  indebted,  and  towards  whom  she 
may  have  been  unable  to  conceal  her  inclination. 

Hammocks  and  ponies  were  in  waiting  at  the  Fort, 
and  without  losing  time,  as  the  sun  was  rising 
above  the  lower  hills,  the  merry  people  set  off  for 
their  destination.  Three  hours  of  an  ascending 
trail  finally  brought  them  into  the  region  of  the 
"high- woods,"  the  bois  grandes,  where  the  air  was 
fresh  and  cool,  and  the  great  trees  met  and  inter- 
laced their  giant  arms  a  hundred  feet  above  their 
heads.  Kichest  tapestry  of  tropical  vegetation  lay 
beneath  them,  covering  the  hills  and  slopes  ;  far 
away  gleamed  the  sea,  a  sheet  of  silver,  its  bur- 
nished surface  as  yet  unruffled  by  the  morning 
breeze. 

The  vast  fields  of  golden  sugar-cane  had  yielded 
to  the  plants  of  the  temperate  clime ;  in  the  foot- 
hills clumps  of  feathery  bamboo,  like  huge  plumes, 

*  "  Histoire  de  la  Martinique." 


JOSEPHINE.  61 

succeeded  by  the  tree-ferns.  Cocoa  palms,  which 
grew  everywhere  along  the  coast,  disappeared  as  the 
hills  were  reached,  and  cheir  places  were  supplied 
by  the  palmiste,  gru-gru,  and  the  mountain  palm. 
In  the  high  woods  grew  the  immense  gommiers, 
twenty  feet  across,  and  from  which  the  mountain- 
eers hew  out  the  canoes  which  they  sell  to  the  dwell- 
ers on  the  coast.  The  gum  of  this  tree  is  fragrant, 
and  is  burnt  as  incense  in  the  island  churches,  while 
torches,  long  flambeaux,  are  made  from  it  by  rolling 
the  spicy  resin  in  leaves  of  the  balisier }  or  wild  plant- 
ain. Lianes  and  bush-ropes  netted  the  high  forest 
together,  making  it  impervious  to  travelers  except 
where  the  trails  had  been  cut,  and  the  lush  leaves 
of  the  orchidaceous  plants  hung  across  the  path. 
The  trail  was  along  the  knife-edge  of  a  lateral  ridge 
of  the  Pitons,  which  finally  expanded  into  a  broad 
space  at  its  junction  with  the  main  mountain,  cov- 
ered with  great  trees.  This  miniature  plateau  was 
some  three  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and  the  air 
was  cool  and  sweet.  The  laborers,  who  had  been 
sent  ahead  the  day  before,  and  who  had  camped 
here  over  night,  had  swept  the  surface  clear  of  under- 
brush, so  that  the  trunks  of  the  forest  giants  rose 
through  their  canopies  of  leaves,  like  the  groined 
columns  of  some  mighty  temple. 

Here  the  ponies  and  hammocks  dropped  their 
burdens,  hampers  were  unpacked,  rude  tables  im- 
provised, broad  balisier  leaves  spread  upon  the 
ground,  where  the  older  members  of  the  party  re- 
clined upon  blankets,  while  the  younger,  after  many 


62  JOSEPHINE. 

cautions  to  beware  of  serpents  and  centipedes,  ranged 
the  plateau.  All  finally  gathered  about  the  tables 
and  plantain  leaves  covered  with  food  and  drink, 
where  was  a  "spread"  that  would  have  delighted 
the  heart  of  a  Lucullus,  after  such  a  climb  as  those 
Creoles  had  accomplished  :  all  the  native  viands, 
cooked  under  the  superintendence  of  Mme.  de  La- 
Pagerie,  added  to  dainties  imported  from  France. 
Communication  with  the  mother  country,  though 
frequently  interrupted  by  the  English  cruisers,  in 
war  time,  was  by  sailing-vessels,  and  freights  were 
low,  so  that  all  the  luxuries  of  France  were  at  the 
doors  of  Martinique,  in  exchange  for  her  products 
of  sugar,  coffee  and  rum.  After  the  breakfast  a 
brief  siesta,  in  hammock  and  on  blanket,  and  then 
the  games  began.  A  smooth  space  was  leveled  in 
the  center  of  the  clearing  and  the  merry  children 
danced  till  they  were  tired,  which  was  not  till  late 
in  the  afternoon,  when  the  long  shadows  of  the  trees 
warned  them  that  it  was  time  to  leave. 

Josephine  was  locally  celebrated  as  the  best  dancer 
in  the  canton,  and  entered  into  the  sports  of  the 
children  with  an  abandon  that  was  infectious.  But, 
early  in  the  afternoon,  seeing  that  William,  her 
English  lover,  was  not  taking  part  with  esprit,  she 
desisted  and  sought  him  out,  where  he  was  moping 
against  a  gommier  trunk. 

He  was  not  unhappy,  as  she  thought ;  his  natural 
British  heaviness  had  contrasted  so  forcibly  with  the 
French  levity  that  she  fancied  him  miserable,  when 
he  was  only  stupid.  She  did  not  know  then,  what 


JOSEPHINE.  63 

some  one  of  her  countrymen  has  since  remarked  : 
that  "the  English  take  their  pleasures  sadly." 
William  was  even  then  picturing  to  himself  his 
charmer  as  he  had  seen  her  many  times  in  play  with 
him,  and  gloating  upon  the  thought  that  some  day 
she  would  be  his.  He  awoke  from  his  revery  as  she 
approached,  and  they  joined  in  conversation,  becom- 
ing so  absorbed  that  they  did  not  at  first  heed  the 
call  to  horse,  and  were  the  last  to  start. 

Josephine's  hammock-bearers  were  patiently  wait- 
ing beneath  the  maroon-tree,  and  William's  pony 
was  pawing  the  ground  not  far  away.  While  assist- 
ing her  into  her  hammock,  the  young  man  re- 
marked upon  the  unusual  stillness  of  the  air,  which 
in  the  mountains  is  always  astir,  moved  by  vagrant 
breezes  from  the  heated  region  beneath.  The  leaves 
of  the  trees,  and  even  the  broad  plantain-pennons, 
and  the  fern  fronds  were  motionless  as  though  held 
by  an  unseen  hand.  No  sound  broke  the  quietude, 
save  the  deep  diapason  of  the  siffleur  montagne,  the 
mountain-whistler,  far  away  in  a  ravine.  The  hush 
was  oppressive,  the  still  atmosphere  was  almost 
suffocating  ;  these  two  felt  as  though  they  had  been 
left  alone  in  another  world  than  that  into  which 
they  had  been  born.  " Allons,"  said  Josephine; 
"let  us  goat  once,  I  feel  terribly  depressed."  Giv- 
ing his  pony's  bridle  into  the  hand  of  his  groom, 
William  walked  by  the  side  of  the  hammock,  and 
strove  by  conversation  to  divert  the  mind  of  his 
inamorata  from  what  they  felt  was  an  impending 
calamity. 


64  JOSEPHINE. 

It  was  enough  for  him  that  they  had  been  al- 
lowed to  have  one  whole  day  together ;  now  let 
come  what  might,  in  any  event  she  would  be  with 
him.  For  the  others  had  gone  on  and  were  already 
far  down  the  mountain-side  ;  he  was  her  only  pro- 
tector. 

At  last  it  came  ;  what  they  had  dreaded  to  name, 
but  had  felt  was  imminent.  A  dull,  rumbling  roar 
beneath  their  feet,  around  them ;  a  convulsion  of 
the  very  earth  ;  a  moaning  among  the  trees  : — it 
was  the  earthquake  !  Their  attendants  fell  upon 
their  knees,  shrieking :  "  Tremblement-de-terre,  trem- 
blement-de-terre,  the  earthquake  !  the  earthquake  ! " 
That  was  all  ;  in  that  single  exclamation  was  ex- 
pressed the  ruin,  desolation,  and  despair  attendant 
upon  the  most  dreaded  of  cataclysms. 

Josephine  was  thrown  forward  as  the  negroes 
fell,  but  her  lover  caught  and  held  her  in  his  arms 
before  her  feet  touched  the  ground.  One  blissful 
moment  he  held  her,  then  she  gently  disengaged 
his  arms  and  stood  erect,  though  trembling,  at  his 
side.  A  second  shock,  still  more  powerful  than  the 
first,  caused  her  to  clutch  his  arms  with  both  her 
hands  and  gaze  wistfully  into  his  face.  Her  eyes 
were  wide  with  fear,  her  slender  form  quivering 
with  excitement.  Never  had  she  looked  so  nearly 
divine  as  at  that  moment ;  never  had  her  lover  felt 
the  impulse  so  strong  within  him  to  clasp  her  in  his 
arms  again,  and  bid  the  world  defiance.  But  no  ; 
he  was  a  Briton,  slow  but  sturdy  ;  her  implied  com- 
mands were  upon  him  ;  her  honor  was  in  his  hands. 


JOSEPHINE.  65 

Young  as  he  was,  he  was  held  by  the  traditions  of 
his  race  ;  of  his  ancestry,  birth,  and  breeding.  Be- 
tween them,  then,  was  only  the  unspoken  word. 
If  he  had  but  strained  her  to  his  heart,  and  whispered 
in  her  not  unwilling  ear  :  "  I  love  you  "...  Ah, 
William,  William  ;  what  a  prize  you  lost  by  your 
restraint !  But  perhaps  the  world  will  forgive  you 
this  timidity  ;  for  had  you  then  spoken,  there  might 
have  been  no  Josephine,  no  gracious  queen  of  France 
for  the  world's  worship. 
S 


66  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FIRST  LOVES  OF  JOSEPHINE. 

THE  earthquake  lasted  but  a  moment  ;  its  effects 
were  seen  at  Fort  Eoyal  in  fallen  walls,  demolished 
houses,  ruined  homes. 

The  absence  of  the  lovers  had  hardly  been  noticed, 
so  overcome  were  the  older  people  by  the  greater 
accident.  They  were  merely  recognized  and  as- 
signed their  places  in  the  canoe,  where  they  joined 
in  the  general  lamentation.  William  was  uneasy, 
for  he  felt  that,  somehow,  he  had  failed  in  his  duty  • 
had  neglected  the  opportunity  of  his  life.  He  was 
now  striving  to  reconcile  his  ideas  of  honor  and 
rectitude  with  his  obligation  to  self  and  Josephine. 
He  had  failed,  that  he  perceived,  for  Josephine  was 
now  cold  towards  him,  and  a  rare  pout  sat  en- 
throned upon  her  pretty  lips. 

What  had  he  done  ?  Nothing.  He  had  not  met 
her  expectations.  It  slowly  dawned  upon  him  that 
he  had  acted  a  man's  part  undoubtedly,  but  not  a 
lover's.  He  would  amend ;  he  tried  to  draw  her 
attention ;  but  it  was  too  late ;  the  auspicious 
moment  had  passed  ;  Josephine  was  not  one  to 
thresh  over  old  straw.  She  could  be  carried  away 
by  an  impetuous  lover,  by  an  ardent  one  ;  later  in 


JOSEPHINE.  67 

her  life  she  permitted  such  a  one  to  marry  her, 
whom  she  at  first  tolerated,  then  admired,  and 
finally  adored.  But  William  was  not  a  Napoleon. 

Her  phlegmatic  English  lover  was  more  constant 
than  Napoleon,  if  we  may  believe  tradition  ;  she  was 
his  first  love,  and  his  last.  For  it  is  related  that 
when  Josephine  lay  dying  at  Malmaison,  in  the  year. 
1814,  he  came  to  the  palace  and  begged  for  an  inter- 
view, having  all  those  years  held  her  image  in  his 
heart.  The  ex-Empress  was  unable  to  grant  it,  and 
died  without  beholding  him  ;  he  expired  three  days 
later,  from  the  effects  of  a  wound  received  in 
battle. 

This  is  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  Josephine's 
first  romance.  She  undoubtedly  had  an  affection 
for  this,  her  first  lover,  but  finally  yielded  to  the 
desires  of  her  parents  and  dismissed  him  from  her 
thoughts.  At  all  events,  William  soon  went  to 
England,  and  out  of  her  life  ;  though  it  is  said  that 
he  wrote  her  frequently,  letters  that  were  inter- 
cepted and  never  delivered.* 

At  first,  as  we  have  seen,  Josephine  turned  a  deaf 
ear  to  the  urgent  entreaties  of  her  aunt,  Mme.  de 
Kenaudin,  to  come  to  her  in  France  ;  but  after  this 
episode  she  was  extremely  anxious  to  go.  From 
the  letters  of  the  period,  still  preserved  in  the  ar- 
chives of  the  La-Pagerie  family,  we  may  trace  the 
steps  that  led  from  this  humble  home  at  Sannois, 
direct  to  the  throne  of  France. 

*  Memoirs  of  Queen  Hortense. 


68  JOSEPHINE. 

Many  fables  have  been  invented  and  related  of 
the  circumstances  that  led  to  the  marriage  of  our 
heroine  with  Alexandre  de  Beauharnais  ;  but  not 
one  surpasses  in  interest  and  romance  the  actual 
story  as  told  by  the  actors  in  this  drama  themselves. 
It  has  been  charged  that  the  marriage  was  brought 
about  by  the  ambitious  aunt  of  Josephine,  solely 
through  her  intrigues  with  the  Marquis  de  Beau- 
harnais, the  elder.  This  assertion  is  directly  con- 
tradicted by  the  facts,  as  shown  in  the  letter  of  the 
Marquis,  in  the  year  1778,  to  Mme.  de  La-Pagerie, 
asking  the  hand  of  his  daughter  for  his  son  Alexan- 
der, who  was  in  this  instance  his  father's  secretary. 
He  opens  by  declaring  his  great  desire  to  give  unequi- 
vocal proof  of  the  esteem  in  which  he  holds  their 
acquaintance,  and  adds  :  "  My  children  possess  ample 
incomes,  each  one  inheriting  some  40,000  livres  per 
year,  and  it  rests  with  you,  my  dear  friend,  whether 
one  of  your  daughters  may  not  share  that  of  my 
Chevalier.  The  respect  and  attachment  he  feels  for 
Madame  de  Renaudin,  impels  him  most  ardently 
to  desire  union  with  one  of  her  nieces.  He  seems  to 
think  that  the  second  (Desiree)  would  be  of  the 
age  most  suitable  for  him. 

"  I  myself  regret  that  your  eldest  daughter  (Jose- 
phine) is  not  some  years  younger,  as  she  certainly 
should  have  the  preference ;  but  I  must  confess  to 
you,  that  there  seems  to  me  too  little  difference  be- 
tween her  age,  fifteen  and  a  half,  and  my  son's, 
which  is  only  seventeen.  However,  this  is  one  of 
those  occasions  in  which  the  feelings  of  a  parent  must 


JOSEPHINE.  69 

yield  to  circumstances."  The  Marquis  then  goes  on 
to  declare  that  his  son  possesses  all  the  engaging 
qualities  necessary  to  make  a  woman  happy,  and  as- 
sures his  friend  that  he  does  not  expect  a  dot  with  his 
daughter,  as  the  Chevalier  is  already  well  provided 
for,  with  his  40,000  livres,  inherited  from  the  mater- 
nal side,  and  the  25,000  more  which  he  is  to  expect 
from  himself.  He  then  urges  the  father  to  send  his 
daughter  to  France  with  the  utmost  despatch — le 
plus  totpossible. — "  You  owe  me  this  pledge  of  friend- 
ship," he  concludes  ;  and  adds,  in  case  he  cannot 
himself  accompany  her,  to  entrust  her  to  some  trust- 
worthy person  ;  but  not  by  any  means  to  send  her  by 
a  ship  of  war,  as  she  would  be  far  more  comfortable 
in  a  merchant  packet. 

The  Marquis  also  wrote  the  mother  at  the  same 
time,  repeating  his  offer  to  the  father  ;  and,  as 
though  sensible  that  it  was  an  unusual  proceeding 
to  ask  the  hand  of  a  younger  daughter  while  the 
elder  was  still  unmarried,  he  adds  :  "  Not  that  any 
one  has  said  any  but  agreeable  things  of  the  elder  ; 
but  we  fear  she  is  too  old,  relatively  to  my  son's 
age.  .  .  .  He  is  well  worthy  your  regard,  madame  ; 
and  if,  as  I  expect,  mademoiselle,  your  daughter — of 
whom  I  have  received  such  charming  portraits — re- 
sembles you,  my  dear  madame,  then  I  shall  have  no 
fear  for  the  happiness  of  my  son." 

He  is  not  content  with  this,  but  even  writes  the 
grandmother  at  Fort  Royal,  and  also  the  uncle,  the 
Chevalier  Tascher  de  La-Pagerie,  to  use  their  in- 
fluence. "  Use  all  your  efforts,  my  dear  Baron,  to 


70  JOSEPHINE. 

induce  your  brother  and  sister-in-law  to  send  their 
second  daughter  to  France."  Mme.  Eenaudin  joins 
with  him  in  urging  forward  the  prospective  union, 
and,  in  order  that  it  might  not  be  said  that  her  niece 
had  made  the  voyage  to  France  in  order  to  get 
married,  solely,  she  advised  her  parents  to  give  out 
that  she  was  going  to  complete  her  education.  She 
draws  a  flattering  portrait  of  Alexander,  declaring 
that  it  would  be  impossible  for  her  to  eulogize  him 
beyond  his  deserts,  with  his  handsome  face,  fine 
figure,  lively  disposition,  love  for  science,  and,  above 
all,  "  the  beautiful  qualities,  of  soul  and  heart,  in  him 
so  blended  that  no  one  knows  him  but  to  love." 
There  is  no  doubt  of  the  affection  existing  between 
Mme.  de  Eenaudin  and  her  god-son  ;  she  had  watched 
over  him  since  his  earliest  youth.  The  aunt,  like- 
wise, anticipating  the  very  natural  desire  of  her 
brother's  family  to  see  Josephine  settled  in  advance 
of  her  sisters,  alludes  to  the  regret  of  the  Marquis 
that  the  eldest  daughter  is  not  at  least  three  years 
younger  than  Alexander.  "  But  then,  you  know," 
she  concludes,  ' '  this  will  not  be  the  first  instance 
of  a  younger  sister  being  established  before  the  elder. 
And,  since  the  age  of  the  younger  is  so  advan- 
tageous, we  cannot  but  believe  that  Heaven  has  so 
ordered  it." 

Meanwhile,  what  had  happened  in  Martinique  ? 
Communication  between  the  island-colonies  and  the 
mother  country  was  slow  and  uncertain ;  the  direst 
of  events  had  taken  place.  Heaven  had  not  so  or- 
dered it,  apparently,  for  a  week  before  that  letter 


JOSEPHINE.  71 

was  written,  Desiree,  the  object  of  her  aunt's  solici- 
tude, had  expired.  The  message  did  not,  however, 
reach  its  destination  till  early  in  December,  thus 
only  renewing  the  grief  of  the  afflicted  family. 
Writing  on  the  9th  of  January,  1778,  M.  de  La- 
Pagerie  sadly  replies  :— "  A  malignant  fever  carried 
off  our  dear  Desiree,  on  the  16th  of  October  last,  at 
the  very  moment  you  were  thinking  of  her  happi- 
ness. "  * 

He  feels  very  grateful  to  the  Marquis  for  his  ex- 
pression of  confidence,  and  this  renewed  assurance 
of  his  esteem  ;  and,  as  it  was  quite  evidently  his  de- 
sire to  unite  the  two  families  by  marriage,  with- 
out an  expressed  predilection  for  any  one  of  his 
daughters,  he  (M.  Tascher)  takes  the  liberty  to  sub- 
mit that  the  third,  and  youngest,  might  be  found 
available.  This  one  was  Marie-Francoise,  called  by 
the  family  "Manette."  "She  is  now,"  he  wrote, 
"  eleven  and  a  half  years  of  age  ;  of  a  gay  and  lively 
disposition,  naif  and  sensible.  She  promises  well 
as  to  face  and  figure. — and  education  will  do  the 
rest." 

He  writes  that  he  had  great  difficulty  in  inducing 
her  and  her  mother  to  consent  to  the  separation,  but 
it  had  finally  been  done,  and  he  would  sail  with  her 
in  April  or  May. 

It  seems  only  natural  that  the  eldest  daughter 
should  have  felt  the  slight  thus  put  upon  her,  and 
she  doubtless  so  expressed  herself,  for  the  father  ex- 

*  Archives  de  Famille. 


72  JOSEPHINE. 

plains  to  Mme.  deKenaudin  : — "  The  eldest,  you  are 
aware,  has  been  home  from  the  convent  for  some 
time,  and,  as  she  has  frequently  desired  me  to  take 
her  to  France,  she  will  be,  I  fear,  a  little  put  out  by 
your  evident  preference  for  the  younger.  .  .  .  She 
has  a  very  lovely  complexion,  beautiful  eyes,  hand- 
some arms,  a  shapely  figure,  and  a  remarkable  apti- 
tude for  music.  .  .  . 

11 1  furnished  her  with  a  teacher  of  the  guitar,  while 
she  was  in  the  convent,  and  she  profited  well  by  her 
lessons,  and  has  a  very  charming  voice.  It  is  a  pity 
that  she  cannot  be  sent  to  France  to  complete  her 
education,  so  well  begun  ;  and  if  it  were  only  in  my 
power,  I  would  send  the  two  together.  But,  how 
can  I  separate  a  mother  from  the  two  remaining 
daughters,  so  soon  after  the  third  has  been  snatched 
from  her  by  death  ? "  This  letter  was  written  from 
St.  Lucia,  where  Mr.  Tascher  had  a  plantation. 

It  was  immediately  answered  by  the  aunt,  who 
wrote — after  consulting  with  the  Marquis — under 
date  of  llth  March,  1TT8  :— 

"  Come  to  us,  my  dear  brother ;  come,  with  one  of 
your  daughters,  or  with  two : — whatever  you  do  we 
shall  find  agreeable  ;  and  we  shall  not  doubt  you  will 
be  guided  by  Providence,  who  knows  better  than  we 
what  is  best  for  us.  ...  You  are  acquainted  with 
our  sincere  desires  :  we  wish  for  one  of  your  daugh- 
ters (which  one  did  not  seem  to  matter).  The  Cav- 
alier deserves  to  be  made  perfectly  happy,  and  you 
alone,  perhaps,  are  the  one  best  able  to  declare  which 


JOSEPHINE.  73 

one  possesses  the  requisite  qualities.  ...     So  act 
accordingly." 

Meanwhile,  there  was  trouble  in  the  Tascher  fam- 
ily, for  the  youngest  daughter,  backed  in  her  oppo- 
sition by  her  mother  and  her  grandmother,  declared 
she  would  not  take  the  voyage  to  France,  even  if  she 
never  had  a  husband.  The  father,  who  seems  to 
have  been  an  honest,  though  henpecked  husband, 
was  distracted,  as  between  his  duty  and  desires.  He 
wrote  Mme.  Eenaudin  again,  before  definitely  decid- 
ing upon  which  daughter  to  send,  under  date  of  June 
24th,  1T78  :  "  You  know,  my  dear  sister,  the  blind 
devotion  of  most  of  our  Creole  mothers  for  their 
children.  ...  In  short,  not  only  is  Manette  opposed 
to  the  voyage,  but  her  mother  and  grandmother,— 
and  you  know  what  that  means  !  ...  If  I  had  but  the 
means,  I  would  start  immediately,  with  the  eldest, 
who  not  only  wishes  to  see  la  belle  France,  but  is  con- 
sumed with  a  desire  to  see  her  dear  aunt.  Only  two 
things  prevent  me  :  a  lack  of  means  and  the  fact  that 
she  was  fifteen  years  old  yesterday.  She  is  likewise 
well-developed  for  her  age  ;  indeed,  for  the  last  five 
or  six  months  has  seemed  to  be  nearer  eighteen  than 
fifteen.  She  has,  as  I  have  written  you,  a  happy  dis- 
position ;  plays  a  little  on  the  guitar,  has  a  good 
voice,  and  a  liking  for  music,  in  which  she  will  some- 
time become  proficient.  But,  alas,  I  fear  she  will  not 
fulfill  your  expectations,  on  account  of  the  objection 
you  have  to  her  age."  In  this  tenor  also  he  wrote 
the  Marquis,  realizing  that  his  was  a  most  embar- 


74  JOSEPHINE. 

rassing  position.  He  did  not  wish  to  let  pass  such 
an  opportunity  for  an  alliance  with  so  distinguished 
a  family — as  he  frankly  admitted — yet  he  hesitated 
to  recommend  without  qualification  the  eldest 
daughter  ;  though  her  only  defect  was  on  account  of 
her  age  ;  which  was,  in  his  opinion,  more  than 
counterbalanced  by  her  numerous  good  qualities. 
To  this  effect  he  wrote  the  Marquis,  who  replied,  as 
the  aunt  had  done,  that  he  would  not  assume  to  de- 
cide ;  so  it  be  one  of  the  daughters,  he  would  be  sat- 
isfied. But  he  hoped  his  old  friend  would  come 
soon  ;  and  whichever  one  he  brought  should  also  be 
their  choice. 

Alexander,  who  was  then  absent  with  his  regi- 
ment, was  acquainted  with  the  bizarre  condition  of 
affairs,  and  immediately  responded  that  he  readily 
accepted  the  exchange,  having  had  a  preference  for 
the  eldest  all  along.  He  expressed  himself  satisfied 
with  whatever  arrangement  should  be  made,  and, 
though  he  did  not  allow  thoughts  of  his  prospective 
bride  to  distract  him  from  his  duties,  was  somewhat 
disappointed  that  Josephine  herself  had  not  arrived, 
instead  of  a  letter.  He  did  not  doubt  he  should  like 
her.  "The  great  attachment  she  has  for  her  aunt, 
and  her  strong  desire  to  be  with  her,  inclines  me  in 
her  favor.  .  .  I  trust,  my  dear  papa,  that  you  have 
already  urged  M.  de  La-Pagerie  to  send  us  his  eldest 
daughter,  whom  we  have  always  more  ardently 
desired  than  the  youngest." 

This  the  Marquis  probably  did,  for  in  a  letter  of 
9th  September,  1778,  he  complimented  the  planter 


JOSEPHINE.  75 

upon  his  decision,  and  assured  him  that  they  were 
already  looking  forward  with  impatience  to  their 
arrival,  and  the  day  they  landed  in  France  would 
be  the  happiest  of  their  lives.  With  the  consent  of 
his  son,  he  sent  to  Martinique  authority  to  publish 
there  the  banns  with  whomsoever  should  be  selected, 
leaving  a  blank  space  for  the  name ;  an  unusual 
mark  of  confidence  in  the  integrity  of  his  old  friend 
and  companion-in-arms. 

By  the  same  packet,  the  aunt  wrote  her  brother 
saying  how  happy  they  had  been  since  the  un- 
certainty was  removed,  and  that  she  only  hoped 
that  Manette  would  be  able  to  obtain  such  a  fine 
parti  as  her  sister.  She  felt  more  than  sure  that 
her  sister  in-law,  Mme.  de  La-Pagerie,  would  some 
day  thank  her  for  having  secured  for  her  such  a 
desirable  son-in-law.  She  assured  her  brother  that 
M.  de  Beauharnais  was  exceedingly  impatient  to 
embrace  him  and  his  daughter.  "  Alas,  if  I  could 
only  fly  to  you.  .  .  .  Adieu,  my  dear  brother ; 
adieu.  But  come,  come  !  Your  dear  sister  implores 
you." 

Thus  it  was  decided :  the  eldest  daughter,  Jose- 
phine, was  to  be  sent  to  France  in  search  of  a  hus- 
band. No,  not  in  search  of  one  ;  he  was  already 
burning  with  impatience  to  embrace  her.  She  was 
his  bride,  in  fact,  before  she  left  the  soil  of  Mar- 
tinique. Her  name  had  been  inserted  in  the  blank 
space  on  the  banns,  and  had  been  proclaimed. 

This  may  be  new,  at  least  to  English  readers  ;  but 
the  truth  of  this  statement  has  been  established  by 


76  JOSEPHINE. 

the  letters  from  which  we  have  quoted  ;  the  actors  in 
this  strange  drama  have  told  their  own  story.* 

But  how  was  the  news  received  at  Sannois  La- 
Pagerie  ?  Outside  the  family,  among  the  slaves, 
there  was  bitter  lamentation  ;  for  all  felt  for  Jose- 
phine a  love  approaching  reverence.  The  sad  in- 
telligence reached  the  little  hamlet  where  her  old 
nurse,  Adee,  dwelt  by  the  shore.  She  at  once 
hastened  to  her  own  "  Yeyette,"  big  with  the  impor- 
tance of  a  message.  She  had  consulted  the  Carib 
sibyl ;  more  than  that,  she  had  studied  the  flight  of 
the  Diablotins ;  "and  from  their  flight  strange 
auguries  she  drew." 

"  Yeyette-moi,  don't  go  ;  you  must  not.  Look,  I 
have  read  the  Devil-bird's  message,  it  is  this  :  '  Be- 
ware of  the  sea.'  Again  and  again,  in  their  flights 
around  the  Diamond,  they  have  confirmed  it.  And, 
besides,  don't  you  remember  the  sibyl's  warning  ?-— 
Vous  serez  Heine  de  France ;  vous  aurez  de  belles 
annees;  mais(0,  see  the  warning  here),  vous  periez 
dans  une  £meute."-[ 

*  Verified  by  the  biographer  of  Josephine,  who  consulted  the 
letters  in  the  family  archives,  which  were  freely  placed  at  his  dis- 
posal. 

f  Local  tradition. 


JOSEPHINE.  77 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  VOYAGE  TO  FRANCE. 

ALTHOUGH  every  member  of  the  La-Pagerie  family 
was  sensible  of  the  great  advantage  of  this  pro- 
jected alliance  with  the  house  of  Beauharnais,  and 
Josephine  herself  was  extremely  anxious  to  visit 
the  mother-country,  yet,  when  the  time  came  to  say 
adieu  to  her  mother,  her  friends,  and  her  dear 
Martinique,  she  hesitated.  Again,  since  the  month 
of  March,  1778,  when  news  of  the  treaty  signed 
between  France  and  America  had  been  received,  a 
sea-voyage  was  considered  very  unsafe.  It  was  in 
February  of  that  year  that  our  commissioners, 
Franklin,  Lee  and  Deane,  had  concluded  the  negotia- 
tions which  resulted  in  a  treaty  of  alliance,  com- 
merce, and  amity  with  the  French  nation.  Since 
then,  war  had  existed  between  the  mother-country 
and  England ;  English  cruisers  swept  the  seas, 
English  war-ships  menaced  Martinique.  M.  Tascher 
would  not  take  upon  himself  any  further  responsi- 
bility, in  view  of  the  opposition  he  had  encountered 
from  the  mother  and  grandmother,  and,  unless 
passage  could  be  found  in  a  convoyed  packet,  or 
neutral  vessel,  refused  to  make  the  voyage.  Tfeus 
nearly  a  year  passed  away,  during  which  the  family 
was  torn  with  anxiety,  and  the  aunt,  Mme.  de 


78  JOSEPHINE. 

Renaudin,  harassed  with  the  fear  that  the  Beau- 
harnais  might  change  their  opinion,  or  the  young 
man's  ardor  might  cool.  Meanwhile,  although  her 
brother  assured  her  that  he  was  sincerely  seeking 
an  opportunity,  it  was  late  in  the  year  1779  before 
she  had  definite  news  of  his  sailing. 

Scarcely  a  month  passed  that  did  not  leave  with 
its  departure  some  impressive  reminder  of  the 
possible  dangers  of  that  sea-voyage.  One  morning 
in  April,  the  peace  of  the  valley  of  Sannois  was  dis- 
turbed by  the  boom  of  heavy  guns.  Hastening  to 
the  hill  overlooking  the  sucrerie  Josephine  and  her 
father  saw,  dim  in  the  distance,  the  ghost-like  out- 
lines of  several  immense  warships,  wrapped  in  the 
smoke  from  their  own  guns.  The  terrible  Eodney 
had  come,  as  he  had  threatened,  to  reduce  the 
rebellious  islands  to  submission.  Seventeen  years 
had  passed  since  his  first  appearance  here,  when  his 
sailors  and  marines  had  assisted  at  the  reduction  of 
Fort  Koyal,  and  when  he  had  also  conquered  the 
islands  of  St.  Lucia  and  Granada.  He  had  since 
become  the  scourge  of  the  French  naval  marine ; 
his  name  was  in  every  mouth.  The  French  fleet 
concentrated  at  Fort  Royal  had  sailed  out  to  give 
him  battle.  The  result  was  indecisive,  though  the 
English  fleet  was  driven  away  for  the  time  ;  but  the 
action,  within  view  of  these  interested  spectators, 
who  had  so  much  at  stake  in  the  outcome  of  the 
war,  only  emphasized  the  dangers  of  a  voyage  across 
the  Atlantic.* 

*  See  Appendix  (4). 


JOSEPHINE.  79 

"  It  must  not  be,  Yeyette  ;  the  risks  are  too  great, 
the  dangers  too  many." 

1 '  As  you  say,  my  dear  papa ;  I  am  content.  France 
attracts  me,  and  to  see  Paris  has  been  the  dream  of 
my  life  ;  but  I  am  happy  here." 

"I  believe  you  could  be,  my  daughter  ;  you  have 
always  been  a  good  and  dutiful  child.  But,  again, 
I  desire  to  secure  for  you  a  future  of  at  least  some 
promise.  Here  there  is  absolutely  nothing  ahead. 
See,  how  have  I  worked  all  these  years ;  your 
mother  has  devoted  her  life  to  her  duties  and  our 
welfare  ;  yet,  what  have  we  now  ?  Less  than  when 
we  began.  Only  last  year,  forty  of  our  slaves 
died,  from  the  fever  and  the  serpents.  I  myself 
am  broken,  despairing  ;  every  earthquake,  every 
hurricane,  leaves  us  a  little  poorer,  less  hope- 
ful." 

"Mon  cher  papa !  And  yet  he  would  send  me 
from  him  !  His  oldest  daughter  ;  the  only  '  son '  he 
has.  Would,  that  I  were  in  truth  a  son,  able  to  help 
you  in  the  fields.  If  I  were  only  Joseph, — as  you 
named  me,  instead  of  Josephine  !  Alas,  woman  can 
do  so  little  that  is  worth  the  while  !  But,  at  least,  I 
can  stay  with  you,  I  will  not  desert  you." 

"No,  Yeyette,  it  is  better  that  you  go  to  France  ; 
there  will  you  find  a  greater  future.  Your  aunt 
will  leave  you  her  heir,  even  if  nothing  comes  of 
this  projected  union.  Yes,  you  can  help  me  better 
there." 

There  were  distractions  enough  now  at  Fort  Eoyal, 
for  all  the  French  fleets  rendezvoused  there  on  their 


80  JOSEPHINE. 

way  to  America.  In  1779,  arrived  the  gallant  Count 
De  Grasse,  chief  of  the  squadron  that  sailed  from 
Brest  to  join  at  Martinique  the  fleet  of  Comte 
d'Estaing.  The  fort  was  the  gayest  place,  perhaps, 
in  the  colonies,  and  Josephine,  as  the  niece  of  the 
commandant,  Baron  de  Tascher,  and  one  of  the 
prettiest  young  ladies  of  the  place,  was  the  object  of 
many  attentions. 

At  Brest,  whence  the  fleet  had  sailed,  was  her 
betrothed,  and  it  is  possible  that  she  received  news 
of  him  from  the  officers,  who  must  have  envied  the 
Chevalier  his  good  fortune.  But  they  passed  on, 
gay  and  gallant  Frenchmen  ;  sailed  out  of  her  vision 
into  the  horizon,  towards  America,  where  they  so 
materially  assisted  our  forefathers  at  Savannah,  and 
contributed  later  towards  the  downfall  of  Corn- 
wallis.  They  sailed  on  into  illimitable  space  ;  some 
of  them  returned  after  the  Eevolution  was  over ; 
but  many  of  them  are  still  sailing,  sailing,  through 
the  voids  of  the  century  past. 

The  household  returned  to  its  wonted  vocations  ; 
the  ladies  acted  as  mediators  between  the  lord  of  the 
estate,  who  was  master  absolute  over  his  slaves,  and 
the  negroes.  Josephine,  made  sad  and  thoughtful 
by  her  recent  experiences,  was  to  the  slaves  a  ver- 
itable Lady  Bountiful ;  she  passed  her  time  in  deeds 
of  charity,  and  doubtless  then  acquired  that  angelic 
disposition  for  which  her  name  is  even  yet  a  popular 
synonym.  The  ladies  of  La-Pagerie  were  celebrated 
for  their  care  of  the  slaves,  exercising  a  super- 
vision over  them  from  the  time  of  birth,  teaching 


JOSEPHINE.  81 

them  the  catechism,  healing  their  wounds,  inter- 
ceding for  them  when  threatened  with  punish- 
ment, at  once  protectors,  instructors,  and  sisters  of 
charity. 

Josephine  might  be  seen  at  this  time,  clad  in  cool 
white  muslin,  a  gay  Madras  handkerchief  about 
her  head,  swinging  in  a  hammock  of  silk  grass,  or 
the  center  of  an  admiring  group  of  negroes,  joining 
in  the  dance  to  the  music  of  the  tambou,  at  evening 
by  the  light  of  the  flambeaux,  or  beneath  the 
brilliant  tropical  moon. 

But  this  life  of  mingled  care  and  gayety  could  not 
go  on  forever.  M.  Tascher  was  not  unmindful  of  his 
promise  to  the  Marquis.  Ever  watchful  for  an 
opportunity  to  redeem  that  promise,  he  at  last  found 
passage  in  a  convoyed  ship,  "  La  Pomone,"  which 
sailed  for  France  in  September. 

In  France,  we  might  have  found  the  parties  in- 
terested in  this  voyage  as  anxious  as  the  voyagers 
themselves.  Tired  of  garrison  gallantries,  at  last, 
the  Chevalier  was  anxiously  inquiring  for  the  news 
from  Martinique.  During  the  month  of  August  not 
a  word,  but  on  the  fifth  of  September  he  wrote  his 
father  that  he  had  received  secret  information  of  a 
convoy  about  to  sail  from  that  island.  And  he  had 
a  presentiment  that  his  intended  bride  would  come 
at  that  time,  and  was  all  impatience.  More  than  a 
month  passed,  however,  without  further  news,  but 
the  last  of  October,  Mme.  de  Renaudin  received  a 
letter  from  her  brother,  dated  the  twentieth  of  that 

month,  by  which  she  learned  that  he  had  arrived  at 
6 


82  JOSEPHINE. 

Brest,  together  with  their  sister,  Mile.   Rosette  de 
La-Pagerie,  and  his  eldest  daughter. 


That  same  year,  1Y79,  there  arrived  at  another 
point  on  the  coast  of  France,  coming  from  another 
island-colony  of  that  country,  the  one  who  later 
raised  to  such  a  height  of  power  and  prosperity  this 
unknown  girl,  Mile.  Josephine  de  La-Pagerie.  .  .  . 

Meanwhile,  at  receipt  of  the  news  from  Brest, 
Mme.  de  Renaudin  and  the  young  Alexander  hast- 
ened to  join  the  La-Pageries.  Hearing  that  M. 
Tascher  was  very  ill  from  an  old  wound  or  malady, 
aggravated  by  the  long  and  tempestuous  sea-voyage, 
the  Chevalier,  with  rare  thoughtfulness,  hurried  on 
in  advance,  in  order  to  ascertain  how  seriously  he 
was  affected,  and  if  necessary  to  prepare  his  god- 
mother for  any  shock. 

He  had  also  arranged  with  one  of  his  comrades  at 
Brest  to  send  him  an  express,  if  M.  Tascher  should 
be  critically  ill  ;  but  all  these  precautions  were  un- 
necessary, for  he  was  found  to  be  in  better  health 
than  they  had  expected  from  the  reports. 

About  the  twenty-eighth  of  October,  in  a  letter  to 
his  father,  he  details  the  condition  of  affairs,  and 
gives  a  hint  of  the  impression  made  upon  him  by  the 
young  Creole. 

"  You  will  pardon  me  for  not  writing  sooner,  but 
since  our  arrival  here  I  have  hardly  had  a  moment 
to  myself.  .  .  .  Our  departure  is  now  fixed  for 
Tuesday  next.  I  need  not  assure  you  that  we  are 


JOSEPHINE.  83 

all  impatient  to  be  near  you.  .  .  .  Mile,  de  La- 
Pagerie,  who  is  as  anxious  to  see  you  as  the  rest  of 
us,  you  will  perhaps  find  less  pretty  than  you  had 
expected,  but  her  modesty  and  sweetness  of  character 
surpass  anything  that  has  been  told  you.  ...  I 
found,  to  my  disgust,  that  all  the  town  seemed  to 
have  been  informed  of  the  nature  of  our  errand, 
which  I  had  thought  a  secret,  but,  though  I  am 
compelled  to  blush,  sometimes,  at  the  compliments 
thrust  upon  me,  still  I  find  some  satisfaction  in  the 
flattering  marks  of  attachment  from  my  comrades, 
and  their  lively  interest  in  my  welfare.  .  .  .  ' 

Thus,  though  somewhat  disappointed  at  the  first 
glimpse  of  his  bride,  the  Chevalier  was,  on  the  whole, 
disposed  to  make  the  best  of  affairs. 

A  few  days  later,  while  en-route,  Mme.  de 
Renaudin  wrote  the  Marquis  assuring  him,  upon  her 
sacred  word,  that  Josephine  would  not  disappoint 
him  in  any  respect.  .  .  .  "Sera  votre  chere  et 
tendre  fille,  tfest  moi  qui  vous  en  assure."  She 
possessed  all  the  beautiful  qualities  essential  to  the 
happiness  of  the  Chevalier.  And  as  to  the  latter  : 
"He  begs  me  to  embrace  you  for  him,  and  not  to 
take  it  ill  that  he  does  not  write  to-day  ;  for  he  is  so 
well  engaged  that  he  cannot.  Yes,  my  good  friend, 
he  is  very  much  occupied  at  present,  very  much 
absorbed,  with  your  future  daughter-in-law." 

The  recreant  Alexander  does  add  a  line,  however, 
to  the  effect  that  he  finds  the  company  of  his 
father's  future  daughter  so  sweet  that  this  must  be 


$4  JOSEPHINE. 

the  explanation  of  his  silence.  He  expresses  the 
great  desire  they  both  feel  to  be  near  him,  and  the 
hope  that  the  Marquis  is  looking  forward  to  em- 
bracing both  his  children  when  they  arrive.  So  it 
seems  that  Alexander  had  lost  little  time  in  his  love- 
making.  He  had  the  advantage  of  position,  of 
education,  of  experience  in  the  gallantries  of  the  day  ; 
against  these  qualifications  Josephine  had  nothing 
to  oppose  except  her  own  native  charms.  He  was 
not  at  first  attracted  by  her  ;  but  within  three  days 
she  had  won  him,  in  spite  of  himself.  The  under- 
standing is  complete  between  these  two  children, 
brought  together  across  so  many  leagues  of  sea, 
destined  for  each  other  by  the  machinations  of  two 
intriguing  relatives.  Alexander  had  been  pre- 
disposed to  the  match,  from  the  representations  of 
his  godmother,  whom  he  devotedly  loved,  and  his 
father,  whom  he  reverenced.  It  does  not  seem  to 
have  occurred  to  him  to  combat  their  wishes,  and 
so  he  at  once  set  himself  to  the  task  of  liking  this 
young  Creole,  as  soon  as  she  arrived.  Josephine, 
.as  we  have  seen,  was  equally  complaisant.  ' '  To  love 
was  one  of  the  necessities  of  her  being."  It  does 
not  appear  that  she  had  ever  had  any  one  upon 
whom  to  lavish  the  wealth  of  affection  with  which 
nature  had  endowed  her.  Her  father  and  mother 
were  always  occupied  in  the  cares  of  the  estate  ;  her 
servants,  her  maids,  however  much  she  may  have 
been  attached  to  them,  were  not  suitable  subjects 
for  a  reciprocal  affection  that  could  attain  to  the 
dignity  of  a  passion. 


JOSEPHINE.  85 

Modest,  retiring,  but  never  coy  nor  shy,  Josephine 
had  freely  accepted  the  Chevalier's  advances,  and 
within  a  few  days  had  enmeshed  him  in  his  own  net. 
He  was  captured  by  that  nameless  charm,  by  the 
infinite  grace  and  sweetness,  in  her  so  harmoniously 
and  ravishingly  blended.  Never,  at  her  best  estate, 
has  Josephine  been  declared  beautiful,  but  universal 
testimony  has  been  recorded  from  the  mouths  of 
plebeians  as  well  as  princes,  that  she  was  ever 
gracious  and  winning. 

Josephine,  although  developed  physically  beyond 
her  years,  was  still  a  child  at  heart  and  in  the  sim- 
plicity of  her  manners.  It  is  said  that  she  and  her 
young  companion  took  their  dolls  with  them  on  the 
voyage  and  played  with  them  throughout  the  long 
and  dreary  days.  The  Chevalier  rallied  her  upon 
this,  but  she  replied  sweetly  enough,  and  he  rather 
congratulated  himself  that  she  had  no  more  harmful 
acquaintances.  He  found  her  "heart-whole  and 
fancy  free,"  at  all  events  ;  and  he  delighted  in  the 
reflection  that  she  was  to  be  his,  his  own,  without 
the  shadow  of  a  rival  to  arouse  his  jealousy. 

They  reached  Paris  about  the  tenth  of  November, 
where  they  were  met  by  the  Marquis,  who,  from  the 
very  first,  attached  himself  to  Josephine  as  if  she 
were  his  own  daughter ;  and  she  reciprocated  this 
affection  with  a  loyal  devotion. 

Since  everything  seemed  propitious  for  an  imme- 
diate marriage,  the  desires  of  young  Alexander  were 
acceded  to  and  preparations  at  once  commenced. 
Mme.  de  Renaudin  the  more  readily  consented,  as 


86  JOSEPHINE. 

she  feared  a  possible  miscarriage  of  her  dearly  cher- 
ished plans,  and  saw  that  the  young  people  were 
so  evidently  attracted  to  each  other.  She  generously 
furnished  her  niece  with  a  trousseau  costing  20,000 
francs,  and  insisted  that  the  ceremony  should  be 
performed  at  her  country  house  at  Noisy,  in  order 
to  avoid  the  publicity  and  confusion  attendant  upon 
a  wedding  in  the  capital.  The  ceremony  was  fixed 
for  the  thirteenth  of  December  ;  but  several  days  be- 
fore it  took  place,  M.  Tascher  de  La-Pagerie,  who  was 
suffering  from  a  relapse  of  his  malady,  was  obliged 
to  delegate  his  authority  to  the  Abbe  Louis  Samuel 
de  Tascher,  a  doctor  of  Sorbonne,  and  the  most  dis- 
tinguished representative  of  the  family  in  France. 

In  the  presence  of  the  Abbe,  of  Mme.  de  Renaudin 
(who  filled  the  place  of  mother  to  her  niece)  of  the 
Marquis  de  Beauharnais,  Count  Claude,  his  brother, 
and  several  other  reputable  witnesses,  Mile.  Jose- 
phine de  La-Pagerie  and  Alexander  de  Beauharnais 
were  made  one,  in  the  Church  of  Noisy-le- Grand. 

"  And  so  they  were  married."  Were  they  mated  ? 
Does  any  one  whisper  of  love  f  Perhaps  ;  the  aunt 
and  the  father  may  have  cherished  the  delusion  for 
awhile.  But,  it  was  as  purely  a  mariage  de  conve- 
nance  as  any  that  has  ever  been  arranged  since  it 
became  the  custom  to  marry  and  be  given  in  mar- 
riage. 

Their  interest  in  each  other  had  been  awakened 
by  the  representations  of  their  friends,  stimulated 
by  the  romantic  manner  of  their  betrothal,  and 
propinquity  had  done  the  rest. 


JOSEPHINE.  87 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  BRIDE  OF  BEAUHARNAIS. 

THIS  venture  in  matrimony  of  a  young  man  of 
nineteen  and  a  girl  of  sixteen  was  at  the  outset  fe- 
licitous. The  first  year  passed  away  very  happily, 
and  the  young  bride,  diverted  by  the  attractions  of 
gay  Paris,  was  the  petted  idol  of  the  Vicomte's 
relatives,  who  were  numerous  and  attentive.  She 
did  not  altogether  like  the  transition  from  the  free 
life  of  Sannois  to  the  artificial  state  of  existence  she 
was  obliged  to  lead  in  France,  and  has  left  on  record 
her  protest  against  the  paints  and  perfumes,  and  the 
heavy  clothing  with  enormous  hoops,  "which  would 
not  permit  the  wearer  to  pass  straight  through  a 
doorway."  In  the  summer  the  young  pair  resided 
at  Noisy-le-Grand,  with  Mme.  de  Renaudin,  and  in 
the  winter  at  the  hotel  of  the  Marquis,  in  the  Rue 
Thevenot.  We  have  seen  what  were  the  influences 
that  surrounded  and  shaped  her,  during  the  form- 
ative period  of  her  character  ;  it  will  now  be  shown 
how  she  developed,  from  a  Creole  provincial,  with 
no  education  save  that  furnished  in  an  obscure  con- 
vent, into  one  of  the  most  polished  and  accomplished 
ladies  of  the  time.  In  the  first  place,  she  possessed 
infinite  tact  and  perception  of  the  proprieties.  She 


88  JOSEPHINE. 

was  constantly  surrounded  by  members  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, who  had  received  their  education  in  the 
most  approved  schools  of  society.  One  who  was  of 
the  greatest  service  to  her,  and  who  became  her 
most  affectionate  friend  and  adviser,  was  Mme. 
Fanny  de  Beauharnais,  wife  of  Alexander's  uncle, 
the  Count  Claude.  Born  of  wealthy  parents,  at 
Paris,  in  1T38,  she  had  received  a  brilliant  education 
and  had  displayed  precocious  talents,  writing  verses 
at  the  age  of  ten,  and  applauded  by  the  literary 
celebrities  of  the  day.  Married  at  the  age  of  fifteen, 
she  procured  a  separation  from  her  husband  a  few 
years  later,  and  abandoned  herself  to  literary  pursuits, 
her  salon  in  the  city  and  at  Fontainebleau  becoming 
the  favorite  resort  of  the  distinguished  men  and 
women  of  the  day.  She  displayed  a  deep  interest  in 
Josephine,  who  through  her  was  initiated  into  the 
mysteries  of  literary  Paris,  though  she  may  not 
have  read  all  her  books.  She  was  cultured  and  re- 
fined, whatever  may  have  been  her  morals,  and  she 
exercised  a  great  influence,  and  in  the  right  direction, 
upon  the  wife  of  her  nephew.  Another  lady  with 
whom  she  became  intimate,  and  who  was  a  frequent 
visitor  to  the  family,  was  Mme.  de  La  Eochefou- 
cauld,  a  relative  of  Alexander's  and  Mme.  de  Rohan 
Chabot-Leon  nee  Elizabeth  de  Montmorency.  The 
establishment  of  the  Marquis  was  worthy  his  rank, 
and  among  the  numerous  and  brilliant  salons  open 
to  the  young  vicountess  was  that  of  Madame  de 
Montesson,  the  morganatic  wife  of  the  Due  d'Or- 
leans,  where  Josephine  first  met  Mme.  de  Genlis, 


JOSEPHINE.  89 

and  where  were  assembled  all  the  grand  society 
dames  of  the  time.  It  is  true  that  the  name  of  the 
Vicomtesse  de  Beauharnais  is  not  inscribed  upon 
the  official  lists  of  the  receptions  at  the  Court ;  but 
it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  she  was  not  received,  as 
she  was  fully  entitled  to  that  honor  by  birth  and 
marriage.  It  is  known  that  her  husband  was  one 
of  the  most  welcome  of  the  cavaliers  at  the  Queen's 
receptions,  and  she  had  bestowed  upon  him  the  title 
of  the  beau  danseur  of  the  Court.  She  was  pri- 
vately received  by  Marie  Antoinette,  however,  and 
this  made  amends  for  a  public  presentation.  Her 
staunchest  friend  and  mentor  was  the  aunt  who  had 
been  instrumental  in  bringing  her  to  Paris,  and 
consummated  her  marriage  with  the  Chevalier. 
Mme.  de  Renaudin,  a  native  of  Martinique,  had 
come  to  Paris  in  1760,  had  secured  a  separation 
from  her  husband,  on  the  basis  of  incompatibility 
and  brutality,  and  was  then  living  at  ease  upon  the 
alimony  granted  her,  and  a  large  private  fortune. 
At  first,  under  the  protection  of  the  Marquis  de  Beau- 
harnais and  his  wife,  after  the  latter  had  left  France, 
she  entered  into  an  amorous  attachment  with  the 
former,  and  late  in  life  they  were  married.  She 
maintained  a  separate  establishment  at  Noisy,  but 
appears  to  have  resided  in  or  near  the  household  of 
the  Marquis,  rue  Thevenot,  in  the  winter  season. 

She  was  godmother  to  Alexander,  to  whom  she 
was  most  tenderly  attached,  and  filled  a  mother's 
place  in  the  heart  of  Josephine.  Notwithstanding 
her  equivocal  relations  with  the  old  Marquis,  her 


90  JOSEPHINE. 

family  seem  to  have  held  her  in  esteem,  and  her 
letters  show  her  to  have  possessed  many  admirable 
qualities  of  head  and  heart.  Her  brothers  corre- 
sponded with  her  regularly,  and  in  one  of  the  early 
letters  sent  to  her  from  the  Baron  is  a  confidential 
description  of  his  sweetheart,  to  whom  he  was 
afterwards  married.  One  cannot  but  wish  that  the 
young  Alexander  could  have  found  it  in  his  heart  to 
detail  the  charms  of  his  fiancee  with  such  enthu- 
siasm and  minuteness  :  "She  has  such  a  beautiful 
complexion,  such  lovely  eyes,  so  pretty  a  mouth,  so 
divine  a  figure,  the  whole  forming  a  most  ravishing 
ensemble,  that  I  am  more  than  charmed." 

Under  the  tutelage  and  instruction  of  her  aunt, 
whose  twenty  years  in  Paris  had  made  a  perfect  Pari- 
sian, Josephine  applied  herself  most  assiduously  to 
acquire  that  superficial  knowledge  which  passes 
current  in  the  world  of  society,  and  that  polish  of 
manner  which  glosses  over  many  defects.  She 
possessed  natural  tact  and  aptitude,  and  above  all  a 
good  heart,  which  is  at  the  basis  of  good  manners. 
Doubtless  she  had  more  amiable  qualities  of  heart 
than  knowledge  of  science,  literature  or  art ;  but 
with  what  success  she  applied  herself,  her  subsequent 
career,  as  wife  of  the  First  Consul  and  as  Empress  of 
the  French,  abundantly  testifies.  During  the  first 
few  months  of  their  marriage  the  Chevalier  devoted 
himself  to  his  wife  with  commendable  zeal  for  her 
happiness,  and  she  returned  his  attentions  with 
affection.  She  was  sincerely  attached  to  the  Vis- 
count, for  her  heart  felt  the  need  of  some  one  to 


JOSEPHINE.  91 

love,  and  all  her  thoughts  centered  in  him.  She 
was  young  and  inexperienced  ;  he  was  also  young, 
but  ardent,  ambitious,  impatient  of  restraint. 
Soon  he  began  to  assume  an  attitude  towards  her 
which  did  not  fail  to  produce  its  effect  :  that  of 
master  and  mentor. 

He  had  received  a  more  complete  education,  was 
more  in  touch  with  the  world  than  she,  with  her 
Creole  manners  and  provincial  teaching,  and  soon 
assumed  an  air  of  superiority  which  was  galling, 
even  to  the  amiable  Josephine.  Thus  their  estrange- 
ment began  :  the  novelty  having  worn  off,  the 
eyes  of  this  mercurial  Alexander  were  opened  to  his 
true  position  as  the  husband  of  one  whom  he  had 
espoused  more  through  deference  to  his  father  and 
godmother  than  from  actual  affection.  He  taunted 
her  with  the  fact  that  she  was  merely  a  demoiselle 
educated  in  a  colonial  convent,  and  brought  up  by  a 
mother  and  godmother  noted  only  for  their  domes- 
tic virtues. 

Two  years  after  their  marriage  their  domestic  re- 
lations were  strained  to  the  point  of  open  rupture, 
and  the  father  and  aunt,  hesitating  to  intervene 
openly,  solicited  the  services  of  Alexander's  old  tutor, 
M.  Patricol,  to  whom  he  was  very  much  attached. 
This  gentleman  held  a  long  conversation  with  the 
Viscount,  then  absent  from  Paris  with  his  regiment, 
who  frankly  stated  the  reasons  for  his  conduct.  In 
effect,  he  said  :  he  had  thought  at  first  he  could  be 
able  to  live  happily  with  Mile,  de  La-Pagerie,  not- 
withstanding the  defects  of  her  early  education,  and 


92  JOSEPHINE. 

had  set  himself  zealously  at  work  to  amend  the 
neglect  of  the  first  fifteen  years  of  her  life.  But, 
shortly  after  their  union,  he  had  found  in  her  a  lack 
of  confidence,  an  unreadiness  to  lend  herself  to  his 
guidance,  which  had  chilled  his  ardor,  and  perhaps 
his  affection.  Her  total  indifference  to  his  plans  for 
her  improvement  had  caused  him  to  renounce  them 
forever,  and  in  place  of  spending  his  time  at  home, 
as  he  had  originally  contemplated,  vis-a-vis  with 
one  who  scarcely  ever  addressed  him,  he  had  tired 
of  this  monotonous  existence,  and  had  returned  to 
the  more  congenial  atmosphere  of  the  garrison 
In  short,  it  was  the  same  old  story  :  Mr.  Young- 
husband,  surfeited  with  the  sweets  of  domesticity, 
balked  in  his  efforts  to  attain  the  unattainable,  and 
hankering  after  the  forbidden  pleasures  of  his  bach- 
elor life,  withal,  would  saddle  upon  the  wife  all  the 
responsibility  for  his  peccadilloes. 

His  letters  of  this  period  are  full  of  advice  as  to 
her  studies  and  her  behavior.  It  would  seem,  from 
her  own  letters,  that  Josephine's  education  was  by 
no  means  inferior  to  that  of  the  ladies  of  her  time. 
Her  epistolary  style  was  correct  and  yet  simple,  she 
had  made  good  progress  in  drawing  and  music,  and 
had  early  exchanged  her  guitar  for  a  more  fashion- 
able harp.  But  she  was  extremely  averse  to  severe 
mental  effort  and,  though  she  may  have  appreciated 
her  husband's  scheme  of  studies,  was  utterly  inca- 
pable of  traveling  in  the  path  he  had  marked  out. 
With  a  Creole's  dislike  for  schools  and  continued 
application,  she  preferred  the  easier  method  of 


JOSEPHINE.  93 

unconscious  absorption  through  the  medium  of  her 
environment. 

A  temporary  reconciliation  was  brought  about, 
through  the  intervention  of  their  friends,  shortly  be- 
fore the  birth  of  their  first  child  (Eugene,  subse- 
quently viceroy  of  Italy),  on  the  third  of  September, 
1781.  But  even  the  delights  of  paternity,  as  well  as 
the  entreaties  of  his  wife,  were  unavailing  to  re- 
strain him  from  returning  to  garrison  life.  He  had 
tasted  freedom,  and  he  wished  to  pursue  it  further. 
One  of  his  charges  against  his  wife  was,  that  she 
had  become  jealous  and  petulant ;  but  after  this 
practical  abandonment  of  her  and  his  heir  she  re- 
signed herself  to  the  care  of  her  infant,  finding  in 
his  innocent  companionship  and  caresses  a  solace  for 
her  grief. 

It  was  thought  that  extended  travel  might  dis- 
tract his  attention  and  absence  renew  his  affection 
for  his  wife,  and  in  November,  the  Viscount  obtained 
leave  of  absence  from  his  regiment  and  took  a  jour- 
ney into  Italy,  going  to  Genoa  and  thence  to  Rome. 
Writing  from  Genoa,  in  the  latter  part  of  1781,  he 
mentions  having  been  presented  to  the  Doge,  by 
whom  he  was  politely  received,  and  who  gave  him 
agreeable  news  of  Lord  Cornwallis  and  the  Comte 
de  Grasse.  In  a  postscript  only,  he  alludes  to  his 
wife,  to  whom  (he  adds)  he  will  write  from  Eome. 
Returning  to  Paris  after  six  months'  absence,  he  was 
warmly  welcomed  by  his  wife,  and  it  was  thought 
the  reconciliation  was  now  complete. 

The  Marquis  and  Mme.  de  Renaudin  were  over- 


94  JOSEPHINE. 

joyed,  for  they  had  most  loyally  espoused  the  cause 
of  the  wife,  and  had  been  unwilling  witnesses  of  her 
sufferings.  Their  joy  was  of  short  duration,  how- 
ever, for  the  fickle  spouse  soon  announced  his  deter- 
mination to  return  to  his  regiment,  then  at  Verdun, 
and  Josephine,  afflicted  by  a  new  access  of  jealousy, 
overwhelmed  him  with  tears  and  reproaches.  Thus 
unhappy  in  his  domestic  relations,  made  uneasy  by 
a  conscience  not  altogether  lost  to  a  sense  of  his  in- 
fidelities, Alexander  sought  to  obtain  forgetfulness 
in  the  pursuit  of  "  glory."  He  offered  his  services 
to  the  Marquis  de  Bouille,  who  had  recently  arrived 
from  Martinique,  with  extensive  schemes  against 
the  English  colonies.  From  his  uncle,  the  Due  de 
La  Rochefoucauld,  he  received  a  letter  warmly 
recommending  him  for  the  position  of  aide-de-camp  ; 
but  failing  to  secure  the  coveted  situation,  he  re- 
solved to  volunteer.  On  the  last  of  September, 
1782,  he  sailed  from  Brest,  arriving  at  Martinique 
in  November,  where  he  was  well  received  by  the 
La-Pagerie  family. 

M.  Tascher,  Josephine's  father,  had  only  returned 
from  France  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  and  had 
been  the  unhappy  bearer  of  ill-tidings  to  his  wife  of 
their  daughter's  infelicities.  Madame  Tascher  at 
first  received  him  coldly,  but  he  made  a  complete 
conquest  of  the  Baron  and  his  wife,  the  latter  de- 
claring, in  a  letter  to  her  sister-in-law,  that  she 
would  be  the  happiest  of  women  if  only  her  own 
son  resembled  the  dear  Alexander.  As  commander 
of  the  port  of  Fort  Royal,  Baron  de  Tascher  was 


JOSEPHINE.  95 

prominent  in  all  the  affairs  of  the  island  ;  those,  at 
least,  of  national  importance.  During  the  five 
years  from  1778-1783,  Fort  Koyal  was  the  port-of- 
call  and  refitting  station  for  all  those  immense  fleets 
engaged  in  the  American  war  of  the  Revolution. 
The  Baron  thus  indirectly  contributed  to  the  success 
of  American  arms,  for  he  received  and  successively 
entertained  the  ships  of  the  Comte  d'Estaing,  going 
to  the  United  States,  and  which  remained  for  six 
months  in  Martinique  waters  ;  the  squadron  of 
Lamothe-Piquet,  obliged  to  repair  here  the  damages 
received  in  glorious  action  in  that  same  bay  of  Fort 
Royal ;  that  of  the  Comte  de  Guichen  (who  had 
been  engaged  by  Rodney) ;  and  lastly  the  grand 
squadron  of  the  Comte  de  Grasse,  which  had  made 
this  port  its  general  rendezvous.  Since  the  depart- 
ure of  Josephine,  two  great  naval  battles  had  been 
fought  off  Martinique  ;  one  within  sight  of  her  home. 
It  was  in  April,  1780,  that  the  English  fleet  under 
Rodney  narrowly  escaped  defeat,  after  a  most  des- 
perate battle,  in  Martinique  waters.  On  April 
twelfth,  1782,  occurred  that  terrible  naval  -engage- 
ment between  Rodney  and  de  Grasse,  off  the  coast 
of  Dominica,  an  island  adjacent  to  Martinique, 
which  lasted  from  seven  in  the  morning  till  six  at 
night,  and  in  which  the  British  took  seven  French 
ships  of  the  line  and  two  frigates.  The  boom  of 
the  guns  could  be  heard  at  Martinique,  and  the 
crippled  fleet  returned  hither  for  repairs.*  In  some 

*  See  Appendix  (5). 


96  JOSEPHINE. 

of  these  stirring  scenes  the  Baron  was  a  participant, 
and  with  all  the  great  captains  and  admirals  of  the 
French  fleet  he  was  on  terms  of  intimate  friendship. 
But,  although  Alexander  was  burning  to  distin- 
guish himself,  and  must  have  been  stirred  to  frenzy 
by  the  accounts  from  the  lips  of  the  actors  in  this 
bloody  drama,  yet  he  was  compelled  to  await  the 
outcome  of  events,  ingloriously  inactive.  The 
peace  of  January,  1783,  and  the  treaty  of  Versailles, 
put  an  end  to  all  warlike  preparations  ;  and  thus 
his  voyage  had  been  in  vain  ;  unkind  fate  had 
thwarted  his  desires.  It  has  been  stated  that  the 
Vicomte  de  Beauharnais  accompanied  Rochambeau 
to  America ;  but  there  is  no  authentic  record  of 
such  action  ;  in  fact,  although  such  may  have  been 
his  intention,  on  his  departure  for  Martinique,  it 
was  never  consummated. 

During  this  period  of  enforced  idleness  his  natural 
levity  did  not  fail  to  assert  itself,  for  he  had  a 
liaison  with  a  woman  of  loose  character,  who  was 
at  enmity  with  the  house  of  La-Pagerie.  By  her 
influence,  he  was  incited  to  open  rupture  with  M. 
Tascher,  and  his  jealousy  excited  against  his  wife, 
left  free  and  alone  in  gay  and  dissolute  Paris.  In 
an  interview  with  his  father-in-law  he  boastfully 
announced  his  intention  of  sailing  for  France,  where 
he  would  henceforth  be  the  master  in  his  own  house, 
and  would  call  his  wife  to  strict  account.  And  this, 
notwithstanding  the  last  packet  had  brought  him 
news  that  should  have  inclined  him  towards  his 


A   WATERFALL   NEAR   JOSEPHINE'S  BIRTHPLACE. 


JOSEPHINE.  97 

wife  :  the  birth  of  a  daughter  (Hortense)  10th  of 
April,  1783. 

The  patience  of  the  La-Pageries  was  at  last 
exhausted.  Indignant  at  the  conduct  of  this  un- 
faithful son-in-law  towards  one  who  was  more  pre- 
cious to  him  than  his  own  life,  M.  Tascher  wrote 
the  recreant  husband  a  letter  full  of  reproaches, 
distinctly  throwing  down  the  gauntlet,  offering  to 
take  back  his  daughter,  for  fear  she  might  come  to 
want,  and  to  save  her  from  the  indignities  to  which 
she  was  exposed.  He  closed  with  the  bitter  taunt 
that  the  only  war  Alexander  had  made,  in  this  boast- 
ful campaign  of  his,  was  against  the  reputation  of 
adefenseless  woman  and  the  peace  of  her  family. 
This  merited  reproach  rankled  in  the  heart  of  the 
offender,  and  exasperated  him  to  such  a  degree  that, 
immediately  upon  arrival  in  Paris,  he  came  to  an 
open  rupture  with  his  wife,  notwithstanding  the 
intercession  of  his  father  and  godmother,  who  in 
vain  urged  the  claims,  not  alone  of  the  mother,  but 
of  the  children. 

His  rage  and  wounded  vanity  prompted  him  to 
demand  a  legal  separation,  the  first  steps  toward 
which  he  immediately  instituted. 

Proudly  conscious  of  her  own  integrity,  and  sus- 
tained by  the  sympathies  of  the  Viscount's  own 
family,  Josephine  withdrew  to  the  shelter  of  a 
convent,  after  the  custom  of  the  time.  Within  the 
seclusion  of  Panthemont,  she  awaited  the  decision  of 
the  court,  which  was  entirely  in  her  favor  ;  the  care 
of  Eugene  seems  to  have  been  given  to  the  father, 
7 


98  JOSEPHINE. 

but  Josephine  retained  the  custody  of  her  daughter, 
and  to  mother  and  child  a  sufficient  alimony  for  their 
maintenance  was  adjudged. 

The  Creole  mistress  is  said  to  have  followed  Beau- 
harnais  to  Paris,  and  she  alone  adhered  to  him  ;  his 
entire  family,  including  his  father,  his  elder  brother, 
and  his  aunt,  the  Countess  Fanny  de  Beauharnais, 
espoused  the  cause  of  Josephine  and  rallied  to  her 
side  with  redoubled  attentions  and  solicitude. 


JOSEPHINE.  99 


CHAPTER  XI. 

MARTINIQUE   REVISITED. 

THE  La-Pageries  were  rejoiced  at  the  prospect  of 
once  more  receiving  their  absent  daughter  at 
Sannois,  and  urged  her  to  sail  immediately  for  Mar- 
tinique. But  for  the  urgent  entreaties  of  the 
Marquis  de  Beauharnais,  doubtless  Josephine  would 
have  sought  the  haven  of  peace  at  Sannois,  for  her 
perturbed  spirit  needed  rest  and  seclusion.  It  may 
have  been  owing  to  this  desire  of  her  father-in-law 
to  afford  her  a  retreat  that  the  Marquis  left  the 
house  in  the  rue  Thevenot  and  hired  a  residence 
at  Fontainebleau,  in  August,  1785.  The  Viscount, 
furious  at  his  defeat,  yet  ashamed  of  the  ignoble 
part  he  had  played,  had  rejoined  his  regiment,  fall- 
ing back  into  the  career  which  had  been  inter- 
rupted by  the  unfortunate  voyage  to  Martinique. 

At  Fontainebleau  Josephine  resumed  the  monot- 
onous routine  of  domestic  duties,  the  placid  state  of 
existence  into  which  her  husband  had  burst,  like  a 
hurricane  ;  and  as,  after  the  storm,  there  is  always  a 
lull,  or  calm,  so  now  into  her  life  came  an  interval  of 
repose.  Her  aunt  sold  her  home  at  Noisy  and  came 
to  live  near  her,  as  also  the  Countess  Fanny  de  Beau- 
harnais,  the  devoted  godmother  of  Hortense.  At 


100  JOSEPHINE. 

Fontainebleau,  then,  the  afflicted  wife  was  sur- 
rounded by  loving  relatives,  and  at  the  head  of  her 
father-in-law's  household  she  presided  with  grace 
and  dignity.  She  lived  quietly  in  this  modest  re- 
treat, rarely  going  into  society,  her  only  diversions 
being  a  walk  through  the  magnificent  forest  or  a 
ride  on  horseback  into  the  adjacent  country.  It  was, 
perhaps,  not  alone  from  a  desire  for  seclusion  that 
she  was  impelled  to  lead  this  quiet  life,  since  there 
was  an  absolute  necessity  for  the  husbanding  of  her 
resources.  It  appears,  at  this  time,  from  her  letters 
to  Martinique,  that  she  was  depending  less  upon  her 
husband's  pension  than  upon  remittances  from  home. 
These  letters,  so  sweet  and  simple,  without  literary 
pretension,  the  unaffected  productions  of  a  good- 
hearted,  earnest  woman,  are  still  preserved  in  the 
family  archives.  They  tell  us  that  the  haughty 
pride  of  M.  Tascher  would  not  allow  of  his  daugh- 
ter's receiving  alms  from  one  who  had  so  deeply 
wronged  her.  On  the  20th  May,  1787,  for  instance, 
she  acknowledges  the  receipt  of  2,789  livres,  at  the 
hand  of  her  uncle,  the  Baron,  who  was  on  a  brief 
visit  to  France.  He  urged  her  to  return  with  him 
to  their  native  island,  but  it  was  not  till  a  year 
later,  in  June,  1778,  that  she  finally  embarked  for 
Martinique.  She  may  have  encouraged  a  hope  that 
Alexander  would  relent  and  return  to  her,  which 
sustained  her  during  those  three  years  ;  but  if  so  it 
was  at  last  abandoned.  They  had  not  met  during 
that  time,  though  a  correspondence  had  passed  be- 
tween them  ;  mainly  with  reference  to  the  children, 


JOSEPHINE.  101 

I 

it  is  true,  but  serving  to  keep  alive  the  remembrance 
of  happier  days.  She  would  doubtless  have  received 
him  back,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  their  children  ;  for 
Josephine,  as  Napoleon  once  said,  had  "no  more  re- 
sentment than  a  pigeon."  She  remembered  favors, 
but  forgot  injuries,  and  all  her  troubles  arose  from  the 
fact  that  base  people  took  advantage  of  this  nobility 
of  nature,  this  magnanimity  of  soul,  which  could 
see  no  evil  in  the  acts  of  those  who  had  once  been 
her  friends.  There  is  no  record  of  any  act  of  hers 
proceeding  from  base  intention,  or  design  to  injure 
any  being  with  whom  she  may  have  had  relations. 
She  looked  to  the  world  for  pleasure,  for  happiness, 
gladly  accepting  whatever  it  gave  her  ;  not  taking 
account  of  the  evil  things  and  the  sorrow,  which 
were  heaped  upon  her  in  full  measure.  She  grieved 
over  her  wrongs,  but  they  did  not  spoil  her  lovely 
disposition  ;  she  never  retaliated  in  kind.  She  even 
disassociated  the  act  from  the  individual  ;  not  real- 
izing, apparently,  that  evil  may  be  inherent  in  a 
person,  and  took  back  into  her  service  servants  and 
maids  who  had  slandered  her. 

This  magnanimity,  or  rather  absolute  integrity 
of  intention,  subjected  her  to  misunderstanding. 

The  voyage  to  Martinique  was  protracted  but 
pleasant,  and  eventually  she  saw  before  her  the 
hills  above  the  valley  of  Sannois,  and  was  welcomed 
by  her  parents  to  their  humble  dwelling.  Nearly 
nine  years  had  passed  since  she  left  Trois-Ilets,  a 
careless,  happy  girl  of  sixteen  ;  to  return,  divorced, 
the  mother  of  two  children  worse  than  fatherless. 


102  JOSEPHINE. 

In  the  hearts  of  her  parents  she  found  that  love  and 
security  for  which  she  had  hungered,  and  in  the  re- 
pose of  La-Pagerie  she  took  melancholy  pleasure  in 
revisiting  the  scenes  of  her  childhood.  In  company 
with  the  young  Hortense,  she  sought  out  the  places 
hallowed  to  her  by  association  :  the  bathing-pool,  the 
flower-garden  which  she  used  to  cultivate  with  her 
own  hands  ;  visited  with  her  the  lowly  huts  of  the 
slaves,  and  carried  to  them  comfort  and  cheer ;  ex- 
plained to  her  the  processes  of  sugar-making  going 
on  in  the  vast  room  under  their  dwelling. 

The  Vicomtesse  remained  entirely  secluded,  visit- 
ing her  nearest  neighbors,  as  M.  and  Madame 
Marlet,  on  the  plantation  adjoining ;  on  Sunday 
attending  services  at  the  little  church  in  the  bourg,  a 
mile  away,  and,  after  the  custom  of  that  time,  calling 
on  the  cure,  at  the  presbytery.  It  is  evident  that  this 
seclusion  was  very  welcome  to  her,  and  that  she 
contemplated  a  long  residence  here,  with  more  of 
satisfaction  than  might  have  been  expected  in  one 
who  had  tasted  the  pleasures  of  Paris.  Still,  her 
brief  happiness  there  had  been  tempered  by  sorrow, 
and  the  recollection  of  it  embittered  by  the  cruelties 
of  her  husband .  Had  she  but  possessed  the  guardian- 
ship of  Eugene,  there  at  Trois-Ilets,  it  is  doubtful  if 
the  calls  from  France  could  have  tempted  her  to  re- 
turn. It  is  related  that  she  again  met  the  Carib 
sibyl  who  had  prophesied  her  elevation  to  the  throne 
of  France,  and  who  pointed  out  to  her  that  while  a 
portion  of  that  prediction  had  been  verified,  yet 
there  remained  the  greater  height  to  which  she  was 


JOSEPHINE.  103 

to  attain,  and  to  reach  which  she  was  to  return  to 
France. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  she  was  not  destined  to  remain 
long  quiescent  in  the  seclusion  of  Sannois  de  La- 
Pagerie.  The  premonitory  mutterings  of  the  gath- 
ering storm  in  France  reached  Martinique,  and 
awakened  quick  response  in  the  lively  and  turbulent 
Creole  ;  the  island  was  soon  in  arms,  faction  fight- 
ing against  faction.  The  convocation  of  the  States- 
General  aroused  also  the  people  of  the  colonies  ;  the 
demands  of  the  people  of  France  found  an  echo  in 
Martinique,  which,  in  common  with  Guadeloupe  and 
Santo  Domingo,  was  soon  plunged  into  the  horrors 
of  civil  strife.  The  new  ideas  were  adopted  with 
alacrity  ;  Fort  Royal  nominated  as  its  first  mayor 
the  Baron  de  Tascher,  Josephine's  uncle,  who  was 
destined  to  take  a  prominent  part  in  the  approaching 
struggle.  From  January,  1790,  until  the  close  of 
the  Revolution,  Martinique  was  extremely  agitated. 
The  first  collision  occurred  on  the  day  of  the  Fete 
Dieu,  16th  June,  1790,  at  the  city  of  St.  Pierre,  be- 
tween some  whites  and  people  of  color,  in  which 
several  of  the  latter  were  slain.  As  a  matter  of  pre- 
caution, the  ringleaders  were  arrested  and  confined 
in  Fort  Bourbon  ;  but  popular  sympathy  being  with 
them,  they  eventually  seduced  the  soldiers  guarding 
them,  and  possessed  themselves  of  the  fort.  They 
turned  the  guns  of  the  fort  against  the  town,  the 
governor  retired  within  the  walls  of  Fort  St.  Louis, 
and  Baron  de  Tascher,  sent  to  treat  with  the  rebels, 
was  made  prisoner  and  held  as  a  hostage. 


104  JOSEPHINE. 

The  governor,  fearing  similar  treatment  at  the 
hands  of  the  garrison  of  Fort  St.  Louis,  which 
seemed  on  the  eve  of  revolt,  fled  to  the  heights  of 
Gros  Morne,  where  he  rallied  about  him  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  mountain  region.  Meanwhile,  though 
several  of  her  immediate  family  were  taking  an 
active  part  in  the  revolutionary  movement,  Mme.  de 
Beauharnais  resided  peacefully  at  Sannois  ;  although 
greatly  concerned,  not  only  for  her  uncle,  but  on  ac- 
count of  the  news  from  France,  where  her  husband 
had  come  to  the  front,  in  political  affairs,  and  was 
then  embroiled. 

With  all  the  ardor  of  his  impulsive  nature,  Beau- 
harnais now  urged  his  wife  to  join  him  in  Paris, 
being  as  anxious  for  a  reconciliation  as  he  was,  some 
years  before,  for  separation.  Whatever  may  have 
moved  him  to  this,  there  had  been  no  change  in  his 
wife.  She  had  ever  kept  alive  the  hope  for  reunion, 
although  discouraged  as  to  the  prospect,  and  she 
lent  a  willing  ear  to  his  appeals.  There  is  no  doubt 
as  to  her  attachment  for  the  Viscount  ;  and,  even 
though  his  harshness  had  dispelled  the  illusions  of 
their  first  year  of  happiness,  she  still  clung  devotedly 
to  their  memory.  Above  all,  she  desired  that  the 
family  might  be  reunited,  in  order  to  have  her  chil- 
dren and  husband  once  more  together.  Her  anxiety 
for  their  welfare,  her  tender  solicitude  for  their 
future,  impelled  her  to  accede  to  his  requests,  and 
consent  to  seek  him  once  again  in  Paris.  She  in- 
formed her  parents  of  this  decision,  and  one  may 
'imagine  their  reception  of  this  unwelcome  intelli- 


JOSEPHINE.  105 

gence,  knowing  as  they  did  the  unstable  character  of 
her  spouse,  and  being  cognizant  of  his  many  infidel- 
ities. Her  mother,  who  had  received  her  first-born 
with  extreme  gladness,  and  had  hoped  she  would  live 
with  her  always,  entreated  her  to  stay  ;  not  to  leave 
that  habitation  of  peace  to  plunge  into  the  dreadful 
vortex  of  the  Revolution.  The  father,  then  suffer- 
ing from  the  sickness  that  carried  him  to  the  grave, 
maintained  a  dignified  silence,  but  he  was  pierced  to 
the  heart  by  her  apparent  ingratitude.  In  view  of 
the  brutal  treatment  she  had  received  at  his  hands, 
and  his  insulting  attitude  towards  her  father  and 
the  entire  family,  this  decision  of  Josephine's  to  re- 
turn to  her  husband  seemed  to  them  inexplicable. 
Although  one  cannot  but  deprecate  her  attitude 
towards  her  parents,  who  had  sacrificed  so  much  for 
her  welfare,  yet  one  cannot  withhold  admiration  at 
her  courage  and  devotion  to  that  which  she  seemed 
to  consider  her  duty.  The  situation  in  Martinique 
was  not  devoid  of  danger,  but  was  tranquil,  com- 
pared to  the  condition  of  Paris,  where,  as  frequent 
rumors  indicated  plainly  to  them,  events  were 
hastening  to  the  inevitable  and  terrible  catastrophe. 
After  the  flight  of  the  governor  from  Fort  Royal, 
a  revolutionary  government  was  organized,  a  na- 
tional guard  formed,  and  another  mayor  chosen  in 
the  place  of  Baron  de  Tascher,  still  a  prisoner  in 
Fort  Bourbon.  There  were  four  ships  of  war  in  the 
bay,  the  commander  of  which  decided  to  sail  for 
France,  instead  of  mingling  in  the  civil  strife  ;  and 
learning  that  Mme.  de  Beauharnais  desired  to  secure 


106  JOSEPHINE. 

a  passage  for  the  mother  country,  he  offered  her  the 
hospitality  of  his  flag-ship,  "  La  Sensible."  He  had 
often  been  a  guest  at  La-Pagerie,  and  was  but  re- 
paying a  debt  of  hospitality  in  kind.  Josephine 
gratefully  accepted  the  offer,  and  hastened  her  prep- 
arations for  departure.  At  last  the  signal  was  set 
for  sailing  ;  at  the  shore  of  Trois-Ilets  were  gathered 
all  the  friends  of  her  youth  ;  her  father  and  mother, 
whom  she  was  never  to  see  again.  The  commander 
of  the  squadron  had  made  his  preparations  so  far  as 
possible  in  secret,  for  fear  of  detention  ;  and  as  it 
was,  when  the  final  signal  was  set,  the  revolution- 
ists became  alarmed  and  demanded  that  the  fleet 
remain  in  the  harbor.  Word  was  instantly  sent  to 
Fort  Bourbon,  which  trained  its  guns  upon  the  flag- 
ship. The  boat  which  had  conveyed  Josephine  and 
Hortense  from  the  shore  was  hastily  taken  on  board, 
and  the  fleet  set  sail.  From  the  guns  of  Fort  Bour- 
bon a  rain  of  shot  descended  around  the  ships,  in 
the  midst  of  which  they  made  their  departure  from 
the  port.  It  was  a  strange  fate  which  ordained  that 
the  Baron  de  Tascher  should  be  compelled  to  witness 
his  niece  depart  under  fire  from  the  guns  of  the  fort 
in  which  he  was  confined  a  prisoner,  and  which  her 
own  father  had  aided  to  construct,  twenty-eight  years 
before.  Yet  it  was  so  fated.  The  little  fleet  finally 
escaped  beyond  the  range  of  the  guns,  and  the  Baron, 
as  well  as  the  anxious  watchers  at  Trois-Ilets,  had 
the  melancholy  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  ships  disap- 
pear with  full  sails  into  the  horizon. 

Josephine's  departure  was  in  the  month  of  Sep- 


JOSEPHINE.  107 

teraber,  1790,  and  her  arrival  in  France,  and  at 
Paris,  where  she  was  joyfully  received  by  Beauhar- 
nais,  followed  in  due  course.  The  story  so  often  re- 
lated :  that  she  returned  on  board  a  merchant  vessel, 
and  in  great  straits,  not  having  means  with  which 
to  pay  for  her  passage,  is  refuted  by  the  evidence 
of  contemporary  letters,  which  show  that  she,  on 
the  contrary,  was  the  honored  guest  of  the  nation, 
and  made  her  last  voyage  to  France  on  a  ship  of  the 
State.  As  she  was  there  by  invitation  of  its  com- 
mander, the  presumption  is  that  her  passage  was 
free  ;  and  that  she  was  not  impoverished  is  shown  by 
the  remittance  at  various  times  during  her  stay  in 
Martinique,  of  the  aggregate  sum  of  17,403  francs, 
to  her  aunt,  in  repajnnent  of  loans  from  that  rela- 
tive. Again,  although  the  affairs  of  M.  Tascher 
were  not  in  a  prosperous  condition,  still,  what  is 
known  of  his  integrity  and  lofty  character,  forbids 
the  assumption  that  he  would  allow  his  daughter 
and  the  heir  to  his  estates,  to  return  to  her  husband 
destitute. 

This  devoted  parent,  whose  whole  life  had  been 
one  long  struggle  with  untoward  circumstances, 
finally  succumbed  to  adverse  fortune,  and  survived 
his  daughter's  departure  less  than  two  months. 

He  died  from  the  disease  with  which  he  was  suf- 
fering at  the  time  of  her  visit,  and  which  was  doubt- 
less aggravated  by  her  abandonment,  on  the  sixth 
of  November,  1790,  lamented  by  all  who  knew  him 
in  the  colony.  One  year  from  that  time,  almost  to 
a  day,  the  only  surviving  child  deceased,  the  young- 


108  JOSEPHINE. 

est  sister  of  Josephine,  Marie  Frangoise  ;  thus  the 
aged  mother  was  left  alone,  on  that  solitary  estate 
among  the  hills  of  Trois-Ilets. 

This  mother  appears  to  have  been  a  worn  an  of  un- 
common fortitude  and  elevated  character.  She 
lived  here  a  life  of  seclusion,  till  her  death  in  1807, 
her  latter  years  embittered  by  the  recollection  of 
filial  ingratitude  ;  indifferent  to  the  grandeur  that 
surrounded  her  daughter  after  she  had  become  the 
wife  of  Napoleon,  and  attended  only  by  a  single 
servitor. 

Respecting  her  lonely  life  on  the  estate,  there  are 
some  traditions  extant,  which  show  that  it  was  not 
without  its  perils.  She  was  waited  upon  by  a  foster- 
sister  of  Josephine,  to  whom  the  family  had  been 
particularly  attached.  This  young  woman  expected 
to  be  set  free,  but  not  being  manumitted  at  the 
expected  time,  she  tried  to  murder  Mme.  Tascher,  by 
putting  pounded  glass  in  a  dish  of  peas  she  had 
prepared  for  her.  Her  mistress  was  warned  only 
just  in  time,  having  raised  the  spoon  to  her  lips. 
She  strove  to  shield  the  girl,  who  confessed  the 
intended  crime,  by  sending  her  to  the  island  of  St. 
Thomas  ;  but  was  unable  to  save  her  life,  the  council 
condemning  her  to  be  burned  alive.  This  was  not 
an  unusual  sentence,  in  those  barbarous  times,  just 
preceding  the  Revolution ;  and  the  unfortunate 
girl  suffered  the  horrible  penalty.*  See  Appendix,  6. 

*  The  foregoing  is  based  upon  the  records  of  the  La-Pagerie 
family,  "  Archives  de  la  Maison  de  Tascher,"  upon  the  registers 
still  extant  in  the  city  hall  of  Fort  de  France,  and  upon  the  traditions, 


JOSEPHINE.  109 

In  her  Memoirs,  Josephine  says: — "I  had  long 
ago  entreated  my  mother  to  come  and  settle  in 
France,  and  had  held  out  to  her  the  most  nattering 
prospects.  Napoleon  himself  had  promised  to  re- 
ceive her  with  the  greatest  distinction.  '  I  shall 
treat  her  nobly,' he  said,  'and  I  am  sure  she  will 
better  sustain  the  honors  of  her  rank  than  a  certain 
lady  of  my  household,' "  Madame  Letitia,  who  was 
very  parsimonious.  But  Mme.  de  La-Pagerie  would 
not  accede  to  her  daughter's  wishes,  and  even  if 
she  did  not  prefer  the  quiet  abode  at  Trois-Ilet, 
had  many  doubts  as  to  the  stability  of  Josephine's 
fortunes. 

She  once  wrote  her:  .  .  .  "While  awaiting  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  again,  I  confine  myself  to 
the  preservation  for  you  of  a  safe  retreat  from  the 

of  the  descendants  of  the  La-Pagerie  slaves.  The  author  possesses 
a  fac-simile  copy  of  the  marriage-register  of  Josephine's  parents,  and 
in  the  parish  records  of  Trois-Ilets  are  the  "Acts  of  Birth  "  and  "  Acts 
of  Interment"  of  the  Empress's  sisters,  as  follows  : — 

"  1763,  July  27th.  .  .  I  have  this  day  baptized  a  girl,  aged  five  weeks, 
daughter  in  legitimate  marriage  of  M.  Joseph-Gaspard  de  Tascher, 
Chevalier  Seigneur  de  La-Pagerie,  and  Mme.  Marie-Rose  Des  Vergers 
de  Sannois,  its  father  and  mother  ;  she  has  been  named  Marie- Joseph- 
Rose,"  etc. 

"  Frere  Emanuel,  Capucin,  Cure." 

"1765,  Jan.  21,  Catherine  Desiree,  a  daughter,  born  llth  Dec., 
preceding."  1767,  April  6th,  "  Marie-Francoise,  born  3d  Sept., 
1766."  1777,  16th  Oct.,  "  I  have  buried  in  the  cemetery  of  this  parish, 
the  body  of  demoiselle  Catherine  Desiree  de  La-Pagerie,  aged  13 
years."  1791,  5th  Nov.  .  .  "I  have  buried  in  the  cemetery  of  this 
parish,  the  body  of  Marie- Joseph-Rose,"  etc.  This  was  a  mistake 
in  the  name,  that  of  the  eldest  daughter,  Josephine,  having  been 
taken  for  that  of  the  third,  and  youngest,  Marie-Francoise.  .  . 


110  JOSEPHINE. 

tempests  which  environ  you  on  every  side.  .  .  . 
Were  you  here,  I  should  have  nothing  else  to  desire 
in  the  world.  Oh,  that  I  could  once  more  press  you 
to  my  heart,  before  death  overtakes  me."  Seeing 
this  letter,  Napoleon  is  said  to  have  remarked  :  .  .  . 
"  I  perceive  that  Madame  de  La- Pagerie,  like  my- 
self, will  permit  no  participation.  She  wants  to 
reign  alone.  Very  well ;  1  will  some  day  establish 
her  as  a  sovereign  in  America,  and  furnish  her  with 
a  code  of  laws  for  the  new  nation." 

Madame  Tascher  proudly  refused  all  offers  of 
assistance  from  the  Empress,  and  even  returned 
the  diamonds  which  adorned  a  picture  Josephine  had 
sent  her  of  herself.  She  kept  the  portrait,  however, 
always  before  her,  according  it  better  treatment 
than  one  of  the  Emperor,  which  she  hung  in  an 
unfrequented  room,  laughingly  declaring  that  she 
was  afraid  of  its  influence  over  her. 

At  the  time  of  her  demise,  when  Josephine  was  at 
the  height  of  her  glorious  career,  the  etiquette  of 
Napoleon's  court  forbade  her  to  wear  mourning  or 
to  display  any  sign  of  grief,  so  she  was  compelled  to 
dissemble  her  sorrow  and  mourn  in  secret  this 
mother  whose  life  had  been  devoted  to  her  welfare 
from  the  time  of  her  birth. 

The  mother  of  the  Empress  lived  for  many  years 
in  the  chambers  of  what  had  been  originally  a  wing 
of  the  "  great-house,"  destroyed  by  a  hurricane  in 
1766,  and  used  as  the  kitchen.  Here  she  died ; 
from  this  rude  dwelling  she  was  borne  across  the 
fields  of  the  estate  to  the  little  church  at  Trois- 


STATUE  OF  JOSEPHINE,  FORT  DE  FRANCE. 


JOSEPHINE.  Ill 

Ilets,  where  one  may  now  find  a  tablet  to  her  mem- 
ory : 

"Ci-Qit» 

THE  VENERABLE  MADAME 

ROSE  CLAIRE  DUVERGER  DE  SANNOIS, 

WIDOW  OF  MESSEBE  J.  G.  TASCHER  DE  LA-PAGERIE, 

MOTHER  OF  HER  MAJESTY  THE  EMPRESS  OF  THE  FRENCH, 

DIED  THE  SECOND  DAY  OF  JUNE,  MDCCCVII., 

AT  THE  AGE  OF  LXXI.  YEARS, 
PROVIDED  WITH  THE  SACRAMENTS  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

IN  this  little  church  at  Trois-Ilets  where  Josephine 
and  her  sisters  were  baptized,  all  that  was  earthly 
of  her  sainted  mother  was  laid  at  rest.  In  the 
cemetery  adjoining,  stretching  down  to  the  sea- 
side, are  the  graves  of  her  two  sisters  and  her  father. 
And  these  are  •  the  remaining  memorials,  in  that 
solitary  place  so  far  from  the  shores  of  France, 
of  those  who  in  life  comprised  the  family  of  Jose- 
phine de  La-Pagerie,  one-time  daughter  of  Mar- 
tinique, and  later  Empress  of  the  French. 

Three  miles  away  across  the  shining  waters  of 
Fort  Royal  Bay,  stands  a  statue  of  Josephine,  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  sculptures  of  modern  times. 
On  its  pedestal  are  bas-reliefs  representing  the  im- 
portant events  of  her  life,  chief  of  which  is  the  Cor- 
onation. The  left  hand  of  the  Empress  rests  upon 
a  medallion-portrait  of  Napoleon,  in  the  right  are 
gathered  the  folds  of  her  robe,  which  drapes  a  figure 
majestic  and  graceful.  The  beautiful  head  is  adorned 
with  the  crown  which  Bonaparte  placed  upon  her 
brow  ;  the  sweet  face,  with  its  expression  of  wistful 


112  JOSEPHINE. 

yearning,  is  turned  toward  La-Pagerie,  the  home  of 
her  childhood.  Surrounding  the  statue  are  en- 
circling palms,  the  glorious  oreodoxas,  natives  of 
this  island  of  Martinique. 

And  through  the  mists  of  time,  we  see  her  thus  : 
her  face  turned  wistfully  to  the  happy  home  where 
her  only  peaceful  years  were  passed,  where  alone 
she  found  surcease  from  the  turmoil  and  the  ter- 
rors of  revolutionary  France.  That  country  may 
claim  her,  as  closely  identified  with  the  career  of 
the  great  Napoleon,  but  to  America  belongs  the 
formative  epoch  of  her  life,  when  that  character 
was  shaped,  which  crystallized  into  the  woman 
known  and  loved  as  JOSEPHINE. 


JOSEPHINE.  113 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  LOYAL  SON  OP  FRANCE. 

JOYFULLY  received  by  the  Viscount,  Josephine 
was  conducted  to  his  house  in  the  rue  de  1'Univer- 
site,  where  she  found  herself  in  a  different  society 
from  that  she  had  left.  During  the  next  four  years 
she  was  to  live  amid  scenes  for  which  her  previous 
peaceful  life  at  Martinique  had  by  no  means  pre- 
pared her.  She  was  at  once  plunged  into  the  tu- 
mults of  the  Revolution  ;  but  at  the  outset,  and 
through  all  that  trying  period  of  strife,  she  con- 
ducted herself  with  a  tact  and  sagacity  that  does 
her  infinite  credit.  Surrounded  as  she  was  by  people 
who  played  an  important  part  in  the  regeneration 
of  France,  and  often  admitted  to  deliberations  of 
the  most  important  character,  yet  she  never  sought 
to  play  the  role  of  politician  ;  which  indeed  was  to 
her  repugnant. 

She  was  content  to  maintain  the  dignity  of  her 
salon,  and  to  receive  with  graciousness  the  various 
guests  who  gathered  for  the  discussion  of  political 
affairs.  Among  these  were  the  Marquis  de  Lafa- 
yette, d'Aiguillon,  de  Crillon,  d' Andre,  d'Montes- 
quieu,  d'Biron  ;  in  fact  all  the  military  aristocracy 
of  the  Constitutional  party.  The  leaders,  also,  of 


114  JOSEPHINE. 

that  party  :  Barnave,  Chapelier,  Mounier,  Thou  ret, 
and  many  others.  She  was  then  but  twenty -seven 
years  of  age,  and  still  in  the  freshness  of  her  youth- 
ful prime ;  light-hearted,  animated,  and  with  a 
polish  of  manner  acquired  by  her  intercourse  with 
the  best  of  Parisian  society.  Among  the  intimate 
friends  of  that  time  she  could  reckon  some  of  the 
most  distinguished  representatives  of  the  oldest 
families  ;  as  the  Count  de  Montmorency,  the  devoted 
colleague  of  her  husband  in  the  Assembly  ;  his  rela- 
tive and  former  colonel,  the  Duke  de  La  Eochefou- 
cauld  ;  the  Marquis  de  Caulaincourt ;  the  Prince  de 
Salm-Kirbourg,  and  the  Princess  de  Hohenzollern. 

Her  aunt,  Mme.  de  Eenaudin,  and  the  Countess 
Fanny  de  Beauharnais,  were  frequent  visitors  at 
the  little  house  in  University  Street,  and  she  had 
engaged  a  governess  for  Hortense,  whose  education 
was  thus  carried  on  under  her  own  supervision, 
while  at  the  same  time  Eugene  was  studying  at  the 
college  of  Louis  le  Grand.  The  sad  news  of  the 
death  of  her  father  quickly  followed  her  return  to 
France,  and  in  the  midst  of  her  grief  she  was  called 
upon  to  witness,  and  not  alone  to  witness  but  to  par- 
ticipate in,  a  series  of  events  which,  while  contrib- 
uting to  the  overthrow  of  society,  also  vitally  affect- 
ed her  own  future.  For  three  years  henceforward, 
her  own  history  is  inextricably  interwoven  with 
that  of  her  husband  ;  the  biography  of  the  one  is 
almost  that  of  the  other. 

They  were  now  cordially  united,  and,  the  one 
forgiving,  the  other  remorseful,  were  equally  de- 


THE  TRAVELER'S  TREE  AND  SHRINE. 


JOSEPHINE.  115 

termined  to  bury  the  past  in  the  grave  of  oblivion. 
Not  even  her  children  knew  the  extent  of  their 
father's  dereliction. 

Alexander  de  Beauharnais,  a  native  by  birth  of 
Martinique,  but  early  adopted  by  France,  possessed, 
as  we  have  seen,  all  the  ardent  nature  of  the  trop- 
ical Creole,  unchanged  by  transportation  to  a  more 
temperate  clime,  and  for  many  years  undisciplined 
by  adversities. 

At  the  age  of  ten,  in  company  with  his  elder 
brother  and  their  preceptor,  he  was  sent  to  Ger- 
many, where  he  passed  two  years  at  Heidelberg, 
then  going  to  Blois,  to  live  awhile  with  his  mater- 
nal grandmother,  the  Countess  de  Chastule.  At 
the  age  of  sixteen  he  entered  the  army,  and  was 
assigned  to  a  regiment  commanded  by  a  cousin  of 
his  mother,  the  Due  de  La  Rochefoucauld.  He  was 
attentive  to  his  duties  and  docile,  but  lively  and 
imaginative,  of  a  happy  disposition  and  greatly 
liked  by  his  comrades.  His  figure  was  elegant,  his 
manners  perfect,  and  he  was  noted  for  his  stylish 
presence,  even  in  a  time  of  exquisite  and  elegant 
fashions. 

Early  in  the  year  1778,  the  regiment  of  the  Due 
de  la  Rochefoucauld  was  sent  to  Bretagne,  with  the 
intention  of  going  to  America,  with  Rochambeau  ; 
but  there  is  no  evidence  that  the  young  officer  ac- 
companied that  famous  general  who  so  materially 
aided  Washington  in  his  victories  over  the  British. 
He  sojourned  a  while  at  Brest,  and  was  there 
advised  of  the  death  of  Desiree  de  La-Pagerie. 


116  JOSEPHINE. 

The  following  year,  1779,  he  was  united  in  mar- 
riage to  Josephine ;  his  subsequent  career  we  have 
traced,  until  his  return  to  France,  after  the  ill- 
starred  visit  to  Martinique,  and  finally  the  reconcil- 
iation. 

Although  by  birth  a  scion  of  nobility,  yet  he  was 
above  all  a  patriot,  and  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Rev- 
olution thought  he  could  see  in  it  the  regeneration 
of  France.  He  embraced  the  popular  cause,  and 
yet  was  a  supporter  of  the  constitutional  party  ; 
wishing  to  reform,  and  not  to  destroy,  still  he  was 
carried  away  by  the  revolutionary  wave,  though 
protesting,  and  aghast  at  the  sanguinary  conse- 
quences. 

At  the  convocation  of  the  Three  Estates,  in  April, 
1789,  Beauharnais  was  elected  a  deputy  by  the 
nobles  of  Blois  ;  but  was  among  the  first  of  his 
order  to  join  the  tiers-etat.  He  was  bold  and  out- 
spoken, sometimes  carried  away  by  the  ardency  of 
his  nature ;  but  on  the  whole  wise,  and  above  all 
patriotic.  He  loved  the  army,  and  civic  honors  had 
no  attraction  for  him,  save  as  they  contributed  to 
the  welfare  of  his  country.  While  his  wife  was  en- 
route  to  France,  in  1790,  he  had  courageously  de- 
fended the  conduct  of  the  general  commanding  the 
army  on  the  Rhine  frontier,  M.  de  Bouille,  for  his 
stern  repressal  of  the  praBtorian  insurrection  at 
Nancy,  and  in  conjunction  with  Mirabeau  had 
introduced  a  resolution  into  the  assembly  approving 
the  general's  course  and  complimenting  him  for  his 
bravery.  That  same  brave  Bouille,  at  one  time 


JOSEPHINE.  117 

governor  of  Martinique,  and  who  had  wrested  from 
English  rule  several  of  the  Caribbean  islands  ;  the 
"Bronze  General,"  who  had  stood  immovable  for 
hours,  with  drawn  sword,  facing  enraged  soldiers 
of  his  command  ;  the  determined  loyalist,  "  the  last 
refuge  of  the  king  "  in  his  vain  flight  towards  the 
frontier,  in  1791 ;  finally  compelled  to  leave  the 
country  he  had  so  long  defended,  to  save  his  own 
life.  The  loyalty  and  the  defection  of  Bouille  cast 
reflection  upon  his  friends,  and  added  to  the  sum  of 
suspicions  subsequently  accumulated  against  Beau- 
harnais.  But  nevertheless  he  defended  him,  loyal  to 
the  military,  to  his  friends  ;  and  still  a  patriot. 

He  was  twice  elected  president  of  the  Assembly, 
and  at  the  flight  of  Louis  XVI.  in  June,  1791,  he 
found  himself,  by  this  defection  of  the  king,  "  occu- 
pying the  chief  place  in  the  nation. "  He  was  master 
of  the  situation,  rose  to  the  demands  of  the  hour. 
The  morning  after  the  royal  flight,  he  called  the  As- 
sembly to  order,  and,  with  grave  and  serious  air, 
stated  that  he  had  information  to  communicate  of 
the  greatest  importance.  He  then  informed  his  col- 
leagues that  the  king  and  the  royal  family  had  fled, 
or  had  been  abducted  by  enemies  of  the  public  safety. 
The  confusion  was  tumultuous,  the  excitement  in- 
tense ;  but,  during  the  heated  debate  that  followed, 
and  the  terrible  suspense  as  to  the  actions  of  the 
king  and  his  retreat,  during  all  the  popular  disturb- 
ances, Beauharnais  presided  over  the  deliberations 
of  the  National  Assembly  with  dignity  and  firmness. 
He  won  the  regard  of  all,  and  when  he  resigned  his 


118  JOSEPHINE. 

high  office,  on  the  third  of  July,  it  was  amid  the  en- 
thusiastic plaudits  of  his  colleagues.  He  was  re- 
elected  on  the  thirty-first,  and  under  his  presidency 
was  accomplished  the  most  important  business  of 
the  Assembly  :  the  revision,  co-ordination,  and  defin- 
itive vote  upon  the  new  Constitution  of  France. 

The  discussion  opened  on  the  fifth  of  August,  and 
after  having  given  birth,  as  it  were,  to  this  Consti- 
tution— which,  in  the  estimation  of  some,  deserved  to 
endure  for  centuries,  but  did  not  survive  its  pro- 
jectors— the  Assembly  dissolved.  Desirous  of  re- 
pose after  his  arduous  duties,  the  Vicomte  retired, 
with  his  wife  and  children,  to  the  seclusion  of  his 
country  retreat,  the  Ferte  Beauharnais. 

But  the  time  for  repose  had  not  yet  arrived.  The 
suicidal  acts  of  the  French  had  enraged  all  Europe  ; 
the  gauntlet  of  war  had  been  accepted  ;  the  country 
was  declared  to  be  in  danger,  and  the  young  men 
flocked  to  the  camps,  more  attracted  by  the  prospect 
of  military  glory  than  in  love  with  fratricidal  war- 
fare. 

The  first  armies  sent  to  the  frontier  to  repel  the 
invaders  were  under  the  command  of  Luckner  and 
Eochambeau,  and  to  the  command  of  the  latter  Beau- 
harnais was  attached.  At  the  time  of  leaving  the 
Ferte  Beauharnais  for  the  frontier,  he  wrote  to  his 
father,  stating  his  desire  to  assist  in  restoring  tran- 
quillity to  France,  and  in  repelling  the  enemies  of 
his  country,  and  imploring  his  paternal  sanction. 
This  letter  is  dated  the  17th  January,  1792  ;  his 
father  responded  duly,  bestowing  upon  him  his 


JOSEPHINE.  119 

blessing  and  approving  his  course.  At  the  same 
time,  his  eldest  son,  Francois,  was  in  the  army  of 
the  Conde,  opposed  to  the  patriot  army  ;  and  he  was 
classed  as  an  emigre  until  the  second  consulate. 
Alexander  was  at  once  promoted  to  the  rank  of  Chef- 
d'etat  Major,  under  General  Biron,  and  entered  upon 
his  duties  with  enthusiasm.  Meanwhile,  in  order 
to  comprehend  clearly  the  course  of  events  that  led 
to  his  subsequent  promotion  and  arrest,  let  us  glance 
at  a  brief  summary  of  revolutionary  events. 


As  the  world  has  known  now  for  more  than  a  cent- 
ury, the  pressure  of  affairs  had  compelled  the  King 
of  France,  Louis  XVI. ,  to  summon  the  nobles  of  his 
realm  to  his  assistance.  They  met  in  February, 
1787  ;  but,  unwilling  to  submit  to  a  taxation  of  the 
privileged  classes,  in  order  to  raise  the  revenue  for 
meeting  the  enormous  deficit,  their  assembly  was 
dissolved  in  May.  Two  years  later,  yielding  to  the 
popular  clamor,  Louis  convoked  the  States-General 
(1789) — the  first  assembling  of  the  peoples'  represent- 
atives since  1614.  The  result  is  known  :  that  the 
remedy  was  worse  than  the  disease  ;  the  clergy  and 
nobles  refused  to  make  any  concessions  to  the  tiers- 
etat ;  the  people  for  the  first  time  were  convinced 
that  they  could  conquer  by  force. 

With  Mirabeau's  answer  to  the  king's  attempt  at 
suppression: — "We  are  here  by  the  power  of  the 
people,  and  we  will  not  be  driven  hence  save  by  the 


120  JOSEPHINE. 

power  of  the  bayonet,"  the  key-note  of  Revolution 
was  sounded.  The  whole  revolution,  says  Mme. 
de  Stael,  "  was  but  audacity  on  the  one  side,  and 
fear  on  the  other."  But  it  was  the  audacity  of  a 
long-suffering  and  outraged  people,  and  the  fear  of 
a  degenerate  nobility.  The  ' '  powder- tower  about 
which  unquenchable  flame  was  smoldering  "  was 
at  last  on  fire.  In  July  took  place  the  popular  up- 
rising of  Paris,  on  the  fourteenth  of  that  month  the 
attack  on  the  Bastile  ;  a  national  guard  was  formed 
and  entrusted  to  the  command  of  Lafayette  ;  in 
August  the  Assembly  enacted  the  abolishment  of 
all  feudal  rights  and  privileges,  and  declared  the 
"rights  of  man  :  "  measures  accepted  by  the  king, 
with  the  right  of  suspensive  veto  ;  Oct.  5th  witnessed 
the  invasion  of  Versailles  by  the  Paris  mob  and 
the  next  day  the  return  of  the  king  to  the  capital, 
at  the  mercy  of  the  mob,  barely  held  in  check  by 
Lafayette. 

The  year  1790,  February,  the  king  appeared  in  the 
Assembly,  and  on  the  fourteenth  of  July,  he  took 
oath  to  support  the  new  constitution.  On  that  date 
took  place  what  Carlyle  has  termed  the  "  great 
swear,"  when,  on  the  Champ  de  Mars,  the  Pres- 
ident of  the  National  Assembly  swore  (je  lejure)  to 
support  the  king  and  the  constitution  ;  the  people- 
all  France,  swore,  to  the  remotest  province,  as  spon- 
taneously as  the  preceding,  and  succeeding,  out- 
breaks had  spread. 

This  year  saw  the  rise  of  the  revolutionary  giants  : 
Dan  ton,  Marat,  Mirabeau,  Desmoulins,  and  many 


JOSEPHINE.  121 

others,  who  led  the  movement  awhile,  then  fell  be- 
neath the  axe  of  the  guillotine.  Upon  the  frontier 
ihe'emigres  were  gathering,  and  the  coalition  of  the 
Powers  was  being  formed  for  the  invasion  of  France. 
The  death  of  Mirabeau,  in  April,  1791,  destroyed 
whatever  hope  the  king  may  have  derived  from  his 
anticipated  defection ;  the  cause  of  monarchy  was 
lost,  and  he  essayed  to  escape  from  France  by  flight, 
on  the  20th  of  June.  He  was  intercepted  at  Va- 
rennes,  when  almost  within  sight  of  the  frontier, 
where  Bouille  was  awaiting  him,  to  conduct  him 
within  the  lines  of  the  emigres.  The  king  was  taken 
back  to  Paris,  and  Bouille  crossed  the  frontier,  nar- 
rowly escaping  with  his  life. 

The  Assembly  was  now  supreme,  the  king  offi- 
cially dead,  although  by  the  constitution  of  Septem- 
ber, that  year,  he  was  nominally  the  executive  and 
still  held  the  power  of  suspensive  veto.  This  power 
he  undertook  to  assert  in  the  veto  of  the  measures  of 
the  next  legislative  assembly,  declaring  the  emigres 
guilty  of  high  treason,  and  against  the  recalcitrant 
priests.  The  flame  of  insurrection  had  extended 
to  the  colonies  of  France,  especially  in  the  West 
Indies,  where  the  blacks  of  Hayti  and  Santo  Domingo 
were  committing  atrocious  massacres.  The  situa- 
tion there  may  be  given  in  a  sentence,  in  the  reply 
of  the  chief  Oge,  to  one  of  the  white  judges  : — Tak- 
ing some  black  powder  in  his  hand,  he  spread  over  it 
a  quantity  of  flour,  saying  :  ' '  Now  they  are  white. " 
Shaking  his  hand,  then  opening  it,  he  said  :  ' '  Where 
now  are  the  whites  ? — Ou  sont  les  Blancs  f  " 


122  JOSEPHINE. 

In  the  midst  of  these  alarms,  how  many  times 
must  it  have  occurred  to  Josephine,  thinking  of 
her  mother  and  relatives,  in  far-distant  Martinique  : 
Where  now  are  the  whites  ? 

At  the  opening  of  the  year  1792,  the  Girondists 
were  in  power  ;  an  army  of  160,000  men  was  raised 
by  vote  of  the  Assembly,  and  in  April  war  was 
declared  against  Austria ;  the  conflict  of  France 
with  the  outside  powers  was  fairly  begun,  not  to  end 
for  twenty  years,  and  until  nearly  two  million  of 
her  sons  perished  upon  the  battle-field.  Again 
and  again,  the  hydra-headed  populace  rose  to 
the  surface  of  affairs  and  compelled  both  King  and 
Assembly  to  listen.  Armed  with  pikes,  on  the 
twentieth  of  June,  a  mob  broke  into  the  royal 
palace,  in  defiance  of  national  guards  ;  on  the  tenth 
of  August,  the  insurrection  occurred  which  drove 
Louis  from  the  Tuileries  into  the  arms  of  the 
assembly,  and  ended  in  the  massacre  of  the  Swiss 
guard.  Thenceforth  a  prisoner,  the  king  was  dead 
to  the  people  ;  stripped  of  power,  a  monarch  without 
a  crown. 

The  country  had  been  declared  in  danger,  in  July, 
and  an  appeal  sent  forth  for  an  universal  uprising 
to  repel  the  Prussian  invaders,  then  rapidly  advanc- 
ing. The  country  responded  as  one  man,  from 
center  to  circumference  being  in  violent  agitation, 
armed  and  alert.  The  proclamation  of  the  Duke  of 
Brunswick,  hastening  to  the  release  of  the  king, 
sealed  the  fate  of  both  king  and  ci-devant  nobility. 
The  property  of  the  emigres  had  already  been  seized  ; 


JOSEPHINE.  123 

now  their  lives  were  in  danger,  even  though  they 
might  have  declared  for  France,  and  were  fighting 
for  their  country  against  the  invaders.  They  were 
declared  "suspects,"  or  under  suspicion  of  conspir- 
ing against  the  welfare  of  the  country.  By  "sus- 
pect," their  orders  of  arrest  explained,  with  dia- 
bolical vagueness,  is  meant  all  who  ' '  by  their  manner, 
by  their  family  relations  or  connections,  by  their 
speech  or  writings,  have  shown  themselves  partisans 
of  tyranny  and  the  enemies  of  liberty  ;  particularly 
all  the  ci-devant  nobles,  their  wives,  mothers,  fathers, 
sons  and  daughters,  brother  or  sisters  ;  as  well  as  all 
agents  of  emigres,  who  have  given  constant  proof 
of  their  attachment  to  royalty."  Comprehensive 
enough,  in  sooth,  and  few  escaped  the  clutches  of 
the  revolutionary  hell-hounds,  who  had  not  already 
sought  safety  over  the  frontiers.  Even  Lafayette, 
the  popular  idol,  who  had  so  ably  controlled  the 
mobs  of  Paris,  after  being  sent  to  the  front,  where 
he  won  several  victories  over  the  Austrians,  was 
summoned  back  by  the  Jacobins  to  stand  trial, 
which  meant  death,  and  to  escape  which  he  fled 
across  the  frontier  and  into  the  arms  of  the  Aus- 
trians, who  kept  him  five  years  a  prisoner  in  loath- 
some dungeons.  Like  Lafayette,  a  patriot-noble, 
Beauharnais  served  well  in  the  army ;  like  him, 
also,  he  was  summoned,  in  due  season,  to  answer 
charges  of  treason.  "  In  the  beginning  of  1789,  a 
splendor  and  .terror  still  surrounded  the  nobility. 
The  conflagration  of  their  chateaus,  kindled  by 
months  of  obstinacy,  went  out  after  the  fourth  of 


124  JOSEPHINE. 

August,  and  might  have  continued  out,  had  they  at 
all  known  what  to  defend,  and  what  to  relinquish 
as  indefensible." 

Repeated  reports  of  Prussian  advance  and  French 
losses  filled  the  populace  with  fury,  causing  them  to 
commit  the  most  terrible  excesses,  and  culminating 
in  the  massacres  of  the  second  of  September,  when 
bodies  of  armed  men  broke  into  the  prisons  where 
the  suspects  were  confined,  and  murdered  above  a 
thousand  in  cold  blood,  among  them  many  priests, 
and  women  of  gentle  birth,  as  the  Princess  de 
Lamballe,  one  "  beautiful,  good,  who  yet  had  known 
no  happiness,"  who  was  hacked  to  pieces,  and  her  head 
fixed  on  a  pike,  that  Marie  Antoinette  might  see  it. 
The  September  massacres  of  St.  Bartholomew,  two 
hundred  years  before,  found  almost  a  parallel  in 
these, "when  innocence  and  beauty  were  sacrificed  to 
insensate  rage,  and  daughters  saved  their  fathers 
only  by  drinking  the  blood  of  aristocrats. 

With  what  sorrow  and  shudderings  must  the 
Beauharnais  have  heard  of  this  hell-carnival,  in 
which  friends  went  down  to  death,  and  some  of  their 
own  relatives  were  killed.  The  good  Duke  de  Roche- 
foucauld, who  had  been  as  a  second  father  to  Alex- 
ander, was  murdered  in  the  presence  of  his  wife  and 
aged  mother,  his  blood  bespattering  their  cheeks. 
His  nephew,  the  Count  Charles  de  Rohan-Chabot, 
an  intimate  friend  of  the  family,  was  murdered  at 
the  abbey  ;  and  thus  the  tale  might  be  told,  but 
could  not  then  be  uttered,  from  fear  that  the  next 
"suspect  "  might  be  one  of  themselves. 


JOSEPHINE.  125 

The  desperate  valor  of  the  French  army  under 
Dumouriez  finally  turned  the  advance  of  the  Prus- 
rians  into  a  retreat,  and  the  country  breathed  more 
freely  ;  but  did  not  relax  its  persecution  of  the  sus- 
pects. In  the  newly-elected  national  convention  of 
the  21st  September  the  more  violent  of  the  agitators, 
the  Jacobins,  were  in  the  ascendant,  their  section, 
known  as  the  "  Mountain,"  and  representing  the 
extremists,  far  out-numbering  the  moderates,  or 
Girondists.  On  September  25th  France  was  pro- 
claimed a  republic,  and  in  December  proceedings 
were  instituted  against  the  king  which  resulted  in 
a  sentence  of  death.  Thus,  in  the  course  of  the 
year  1Y92,  Paris  had  accomplished  the  humiliation 
of  royalty  ;  the  downfall  of  the  aristocracy  ;  the 
elevation  of  the  Jacobins  to  power,  with  the  cor- 
responding defeat  of  the  Girondists ;  and  the  proc- 
lamation of  the  republic. 

We  have  little  information  of  the  movements  of 
Mme.  de  Beauharnais,  during  this  sad  and  eventful 
year.  Accustomed,  however,  from  infancy,  to-  re- 
gard the  sovereigns  with  respect,  even  with  rever- 
ence, she  could  not  but  have  been  profoundly  affected 
by  their  misfortunes,  and  have  wept  over  their  un- 
happy fate.  At  the  same  time,  she  was  rejoiced 
that  her  husband  was  remote  from  the  center  of 
sanguinary  civil  strife  and  the  terrible  guillotine  ; 
though  well  aware  that  he  was  not  beyond  the 
reach  of  their  enemies. 

It  is  a  matter  of  regret  that  we  do  not  possess  the 
correspondence  of  husband  and  wife,  during  this 


126  JOSEPHINE. 

period,  when  trouble  and  sorrow,  shared  in  com- 
mon, must  have  brought  their  hearts  very  close  to- 
gether in  mutual  sympathy. 

The  execution  of  the  king,  on  the  20th  of  Janu- 
ary, 1793,  brought  upon  France  the  execrations 
of  the  world,  hastened  the  movements  of  the  co- 
alition, provoked  the  royalist  insurrection  of  the 
Vendee,  and  filled  the  distracted  country  with  dis- 
sensions: But  it  united  the  party  in  the  ascendant, 
which  took  to  itself  the  credit  of  the  French  suc- 
cesses on  the  frontiers,  and  gave  birth  to  the  revolu- 
tionary tribunal  and  the  terrible  "Committee  of 
Safety,"  invested  with  absolute  power  over  the 
lives  and  property  of  the  people.  Ingratitude  and 
suspicion  could  go  no  farther  than  it  was  carried  by 
this  central  tribunal,  which  rewarded  bravery  with 
insult  and  contumely,  and  patriotism  by  dishonor 
and  death.  The  brave  Custine,  who  had  succeeded 
to  Brion,  after  his  great  successes  in  the  Palatinate, 
had  been  compelled  to  withdraw  into  French  terri- 
tory, leaving  behind  him  twenty  thousand  French 
invested  in  Mayence.  The  committee  at  once  re- 
called him,  and  gave  the  command  to  Beauharnais, 
who,  at  the  age  of  thirty-three,  found  himself 
General-in-Chief  of  the  Army  of  the  Rhine. 

He  was  charged  with  the  onerous  task  of  retriev- 
ing the  territory  lost  by  his  predecessor,  at  the  same 
time  he  was  hampered  by  the  commands  of  the 
terrible  Committee,  which  not  only  presumed  to 
dictate  his  movements,  but  to  prescribe  victories, 
without  furnishing  him  the  men  and  material  of 


JOSEPHINE.  127 

war.  The  General  did  not  dissimulate  to  Josephine 
the  gravity  of  his  situation,  of  which  she  was  fully 
aware  from  her  own  observation.  His  appointment 
was  confirmed  in  May  ;  in  June  the  leaders  of  the 
Girondists  were  arrested  by  the  Jacobins,  and 
Beauharnais,  as  a  sympathizer  with  their  party  and 
principles,  was  suspected.  Still,  he  hoped  by  feat- 
of-arms  to  earn  the  gratitude  of  his  country  and 
save  his  family  from  ruin,  and  had  confidence  that 
the  rectitude  of  his  course  would  be  recognized.  In 
this  confidence  his  wife  did  not  share,  as  is  shown 
by  her  attempt  to  provide  for  the  safety  of  their 
children,  by  committing  them  to  the  care  of  the 
Princess  de  Hohenzollern,  who,  with  her  brother, 
had  formed  the  project  of  taking  refuge  in  England. 
In  anticipation  of  this  event,  the  children  spent 
several  days  with  the  Princess  at  her  residence  in 
Artois,  and  a  letter  has  been  preserved,  written  at 
this  time  to  Hortense 

"  MY    DEAREST  DAUGHTER  :— 

"  Thy  letter  gave  me  great  pleasure,  my  dear 
Hortense.  I  am  sensible  of  thy  regrets  at  being 
separated  from  your  mamma,  my  child ;  but  it 
is  not  for  a  long  time,  for  I  expect  the  Princess 
to  return  in  the  spring,  when  we  shall  again  be 
together.  .  .  I  love  my  darling  little  Hortense, 
with  all  my  heart.  .  .  Embrace  Eugene  for  me. 
"  Thy  loving  mother, 

"JOSEPHINE  DE  BEAUHARNAIS." 

Josephine  had  acted  without  consulting  her  husband, 
who,  on  learning  of  the  proposed  departure,  and  in 


128  JOSEPHINE. 

view  of  the  effect  such  an  act  would  have  upon  the 
Committee,  despatched  a  courier  with  an  order  for 
detention.  The  Princess,  having  no  one  to  whom 
she  could  entrust  the  children,  herself  took  them  to 
Paris,  to  Mme.  de  Kenaudin  ;  and,  by  this  circum- 
stance, being  prevented  from  leaving  the  country  at 
the  time  intended,  caused  a  delay  that  was  fatal  to 
her  brother,  the  Prince. 

The  Marquis  was  then  residing  at  Fontainebleau, 
where  Mme.  de  Beauharnais  was  a  frequent  visitor  ; 
though  she  did  not  dare  absent  herself  from  her 
house  in  Paris,  owing  to  her  conspicuous  position 
as  the  wife  of  the  General  of  the  Army  of  the  Rhine. 

Beauharnais  gave  all  his  energies  to  the  reorganiza- 
tion of  his  army  and  the  perfection  of  its  discipline, 
with  such  success  that  he  was  complimented  even 
by  the  Committee.  He  had  before  him  the  hercu- 
lean task  of  the  deliverance  of  Metz  from  the  Prus- 
sian besiegers,  who  were  commanded  by  the  ablest 
generals,  and  the  King  of  Prussia  in  person.  Be- 
fore assuming  the  defensive,  he  addressed  a  long 
and  diffuse  proclamation  to  his  soldiers,  breathing 
of  ardor  and  patriotism  ;  but  in  striking  contrast  to 
the  terse,  energetic  and  burning  appeals  of  Bona- 
parte, as  at  Arcole  and  Eivoli.  He  was  inspired 
with  the  highest  motives,  but  in  vain ;  the  strong- 
hold capitulated  before  his  army  could  reach  it,  and 
his  command  was  only  saved  by  a  rapid  and  well- 
executed  retrograde  march  to  the  strong  position 
he  had  left.  The  capitulation  was  denounced  by 
the  committee  as  infamous,  and  the  failure  to  re- 


JOSEPHINE.  129 

lieve  the  besieged  as  treachery.  As  a  defeated 
general,  as  a  ci-devant,  and  a  former  Girondist,  Beau- 
harnais  could  not  be  regarded  by  the  tribunal  as  other 
than  a  "suspect."  His  resignation  was  accepted, 
his  offer  to  serve  his  country  in  a  subordinate 
capacity  was  refused,  and  he  was  ordered  at  once 
to  Paris.  Josephine  had  kept  him  informed  of  the 
sentiment,  constantly  increasing,  adverse  to  the 
employment  of  the  ci-devant  in  command  ;  but  his 
love  of  country  impelled  him  to  the  offer  of  service 
in  any  capacity. 

On  the  25th  of  August,  1793,  the  reunited  family 
retired  to  their  country  place,  instead  of  fleeing 
from  the  dangers  that  menaced  them.  By  retiring 
into  the  country,  Beauharnais  only  anticipated  by 
a  few  days  the  orders  of  the  Committee,  promulgated 
on  the  5th  of  September,  commanding  all  the  military 
noblesse,  who  had  resigned  or  been  deposed,  to  re- 
tire to  their  homes,  at  a  distance  from  Paris,  under 
the  most  extreme  penalties.  .  .  . 

On  the  17th  of  September,  was  issued  the  strin- 
gent order  against  the  "suspects,"  by  which  the 
clergy  and  the  nobility  were  placed  under  ban,  and 
the  prisons  and  houses  of  detention  filled  to  over- 
flowing with  prospective  victims  of  the  guillotine. 
Even  the  buoyant  nature  of  Alexander  de  Beau- 
harnais could  not  blind  him  to  the  fact  that  the 
reign  of  terror  had  begun  ;  he  and  his  family  were 
under  suspicion. 
9 


130  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
"TERROR  THE  ORDER  OF  THE  DAY." 

THE  Terror  was  upon  this  devoted  family  ;  like  a 
surging  billow,  increasing  as  it  roared  and  rolled, 
it  had  invaded  and  submerged  all  France.  Under 
such  a  terrible  menace  as  the  decree  of  the  suspects, 
no  person  of  distinction  could  rest  secure  within  the 
bounds  of  the  republic  ;  but  Beauharnais,  possessing 
the  esteem  and  love  of  his  neighbors,  counted  upon 
their  protection.  This  is  shown  in  a  letter,  copied 
by  the  hand  of  Josephine,  in  answer  to  a  testimonial 
from  the  inhabitants  of  Blois,  welcoming  to  their 
midst  one  who  had  given  his  best  years  to  the  service 
of  his  country.  Towards  the  end  of  the  month 
(September,  1793),  these  people,  wishing  perhaps  to 
shield  him  from  the  Committee,  and  to  testify  their 
esteem,  chose  him  mayor  of  their  commune.  Mine, 
de  Beauharnais,  who  was  not  yet  forbidden  to  visit 
the  capital,  sought  to  engage  in  her  husband's 
behalf  such  persons  now  in  influence  as  would 
protect  one  who,  though  content  to  be  relegated  to 
obscurity,  still  scorned  to  fly.  At  this  time,  the 
old  Marquis  and  Mme.  de  Kenaudin  resided  at 
Fontainebleau,  and  Mme.  Fanny  de  Beauharnais  in 
Paris,  with  her  daughter,  the  wife  of  Alexander's 


JOSEPHINE.  131 

eldest  brother,  who  was  in  the  army  of  the  Conde. 
By  his  defection  he  had  placed  the  lives  of  all  his 
relatives  in  danger — father,  brother,  wife,  mother 
and  sister-in-law — by  the  definition  of  the  Decree,  an 
entire  family  of  "  suspects." 

It  had  needed  only  the  execution  of  the  king,  to 
let  loose  the  passions  of  the  lower  classes  and  un- 
chain the  fury  of  the  Jacobins.  The  moderates  had 
long  since  given  way  to  the  extremists,  and  must 
now  reckon  with  Marat  and  Robespierre,  who  could 
not  obtain  victims  enough,  who  could  not  shed  blood 
enough,  to  quench  their  diabolical  thirst.  All 
power  was  now  centralized  in  the  so-called  Com- 
mittee of  Public  Safety,  which  every  day  was  hauling 
before  them  the  friends  and  acquaintances  of  the 
Beauharnais. 

The  suspected  family  saw  its  own  fate  impending, 
but  could  not  escape,  for  the  flight  of  one  would  but 
precipitate  the  catastrophe.  In  agony  of  heart,  but 
outwardly  calm,  Josephine  and  her  husband  gave 
their  attention  to  their  duties  at  the  Ferte  Beauhar- 
nais, and  each  night  felt  grateful  that  they  could 
gather  beneath  their  own  roof-tree  an  united  family. 
The  General  devoted  himself  entirely  to  his  office, 
which,  though  an  inferior  one,  he  allowed  to  absorb 
all  his  time.  At  last,  the  first  blow  fell,  in  the 
imprisonment  of  the  wife  of  the  emigre,  on  the 
third  of  November.  Her  mother,  Madame  Fanny, 
counted  upon  her  friendship  with  a  secretary  of  the 
Commune,  to  protect  her ;  but  his  influence  could 
not  extend  to  the  daughter.  More  and  more  critical 


132  JOSEPHINE. 

became  their  position ;  faster  and  faster  fell  the 
sharp  blade  of  the  guillotine. 

The  year  1793  was  to  be  a  memorable  one  ;  the  first 
month  witnessed  the  head  of  a  king  fall  "  as  a  gage 
of  battle  "  at  the  feet  of  the  enemies  of  the  republic  ; 
in  July,  a  fairer  head  was  severed  :  that  of  Charlotte 
Corday,  that  "  stately  Norman  figure,  of  beautiful, 
still  countenance,"  who  killed  Marat,  "one  nian 
to  save  a  hundred  thousand ;  a  villain  to  save 
innocents ;  a  savage  beast,  to  give  repose  to  my 
country."  Alas!  vain  sacrifice  of  a  noble  life;  it 
was  not  Marat,  but  one  silent  behind  him,  the  in- 
explicable Robespierre,  she  should  have  slain.  In 
October,  another,  more  famous,  equally  guiltless 
of  actual  crime,  equally  unfortunate,  the  hapless 
discrowned  queen,  Marie  Antoinette,  whose  head 
was  sheared  away  by  the  relentless  guillotine,  on 
the  sixteenth  of  the  month.  To  complete  this  trio 
of  French  heroines,  add  another  shining  figure  :  the 
ninth  of  November,  Madame  Roland,  led  to  execu- 
tion from  Charlotte  Corday's  cell.  "Noble  white 
vision,  with  its  high  queenly  face,  its  soft  proud 
eyes,  long  black  hair  floating  down  to  the  girdle, 
and  as  brave  a  heart  as  ever  beat  in  womanly 
bosom.  .  .  .  Like  a  white  Grecian  statue,  serenely 
complete,  she  shines  in  that  black  wreck  of  things, 
long  memorable."  Who  was  refused  a  pen  to 
"  write  the  strange  thoughts"  rising  in  her. 

"0  Liberty,  what  strange  things  are  done  in  thy 
name!  ..." 

The  last  day  of  October  was  the  last  day  of  life 


JOSEPHINE.  133 

on  earth  for  the  twenty-two  Girondists,  guillotined 
in  a  body  :  "Samson's  axe  is  rapid — one  head  per 
minute.  .  .  .  They  attempt  the  Marseillaise  ;  the 
chorus  so  rapidly  wearing  weak — the  chorus  has 
died  out."  But  not  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  ;  their 
death  hastened  the  downfall  of  the  arch-fiend  :  Robe- 
spierre already  trembles  for  his  security. 

"  Qa  ira;  la  guillotine  ne  va  pas  mal."  Give 
them  time  enough,  they  will  devour  each  other, 
these  cannibals  ;  but  before  the  end  comes,  how  many 
innocent  shall  perish  !  .  .  .  During  the  last  months 
of  the  year  the  persecution  of  the  military  nobles, 
which  had  begun  with  Custine,  was  continued, 
until  more  than  twenty  generals  were  under  arrest, 
most  of  whom  paid  with  their  lives  their  devotion 
to  the  infernal  "republic."  Among  them,  Hou- 
chard,  guillotined  the  16th  of  November ;  Luckner 
and  Brion,  on  the  first  day  of  the  new  year,  1794 ; 
nearly  all  of  Beauharnais'  military  companions  and 
former  commanders  ;  and  finally  the  Vicomte  him- 
self. He  had  been  a  colleague  of  Houchard,  had 
served  under  Brion  ;  in  short,  neither  his  inesti- 
mable services  as  Commander  of  the  Army  of  the 
Rhine,  his  popularity  as  mayor  of  his  commune, 
the  influence  of  his  wife,  nor  the  vigilance  of  his 
aunts,  could  save  him  from  arrest.  He  was  noble, 
he  had  been  a  member  of  the  constituent  assembly, 
he  was  a  moderate,  he  was  the  brother  of  an  emigre  ; 
he  was,  if  any,  qualified  for  a  "suspect."  De- 
nounced before  the  local  committee,  he  was  arrested 
at  Ferte,  taken  to  the  prisons  of  the  Luxembourg, 


134  JOSEPHINE. 

where  he  found  many  of  his  old  comrades,  also 
victims  to  the  ingratitude  of  the  republic — than 
which  no  ingratitude  can  be  baser.  Custine  had 
already  perished  :  one  who  "  had  fought  in  America  : 
a  proud  brave  man  ;  and  his  fortune  led  him  hither  !  " 
Beauharnais  was  arrested  in  January,  1794.  That 
month  the  houses  of  detention  and  prisons  held 
4,600  victims  ;  in  March  5,800  ;  at  the  beginning  of 
April  7,500  ;  at  the  end  of  April  8,000  ;  "  crowded  to 
the  ridge-poles  "  with  "  suspects." 

"  The  44,000  committees,  like  so  many  companies 
of  reapers  and  gleaners  gleaning  France,  are  gather- 
ing their  harvest  and  storing  it  in  these  houses  of 
detention."  No  one  attainted  of  royalty  escaped, 
who  had  not  already  fled  from  this  country  accursed. 
In  November  had  fallen  the  head  of  Philippe 
d'Orleans  Egalite,  the  last  remaining  of  notable 
royalty,  though  professing  himself  a  republican.  It 
was  in  that  same  bloody  November,"  says  Carlyle, 
in  his  revolutionary  rhapsody,  "  that  two  notable 
prisoners  were  added  :  Dame  Dubarry  and  Jose- 
phine Beauharnais.  Dame  whilom  Countess  Du- 
barry, unfortunate  female,  had  returned  from 
London  ;  they  snatched  her,  not  only  as  ex-harlot 
of  a  whilom  Majesty,  and  therefore  'suspect,'  but 
as  having  furnished  emigrants  with  money.  Con- 
temporaneously with  whom  there  comes  the  wife  of 
Beauharnais,  soon  to  be  the  widow  :  she  that  is  Jose- 
phine Tascher  Beauharnais  ;  that  shall  be  Josephine 
Empress  Bonaparte, — for  a  black  divineress  of  the 
Tropics  prophesied,  long  since,  that  she  should  be  a 


JOSEPHINE.  135 

Queen,  and  more.  ...  In  that  same  hour  perished 
poor  Adam  Lux  of  his  love  for  Charlotte  Corday." 
Rhapsody  sometimes  leads  the  rhapsodist  astray,  as 
in  this  instance,  when  the  great  Carlyle  mistook  the 
wife  of  the  emigre  for  that  of  the  younger  brother. 
Misery  enough  Josephine  endured,  and  soon  enough 
the  door  of  the  prison  closed  upon  her  ;  but  it  was  in 
April,  not  in  November,  that  she  followed  her 
husband  to  the  detention-house. 

Her  husband  arrested,  Josephine  displayed  a 
courage  and  energy  that  might  seem  foreign  to  her 
soft  and  indolent  Creole  nature ;  did  we  not  know  that 
in  the  crucial  tests  of  life,  this  same  Creole  nature 
has  often  risen  to  sublimest  heights  of  heroism  and 
self-sacrifice.  Far  from  seeking  her  own  safety  in 
flight,  which  she  might  have  done,  she  devoted  all 
her  time  to  efforts  for  his  liberation  :  writing  letters, 
soliciting  those  in  power,  with  prayer  and  en- 
treaty ;  she  neglected  nothing  ;  yet  was  all  in  vain. 
Alexander  Beauharnais,  ci-devant  noble,  a  general 
of  the  army,  and  a  gentleman,  was  too  great  a  prize 
to  be  permitted  to  escape  the  clutches  of  the  canaille. 

She  was  not  surprised,  for  she  had  realized  that 
nothing  short  of  a  miracle  could  save  her  from 
arrest,  when,  on  the  twentieth  of  April,  the  minions 
of  Robespiecre  seized  and  carried  her  to  prison. 
Her  chief  concern  was  for  her  children,  suddenly 
deprived  of  her  protection,  left  alone  and  unattended, 
who  for  several  days  were  at  the  mercy  of  their 
enemies.  Hortense  was  but  eleven  and  Eugene 
only  twelve,  but  they  displayed  a  courage  commend- 


136  JOSEPHINE. 

able  and  unusual,  in  the  cruel  circumstances  sur- 
rounding them.  Finally  they  were  found  by  their 
relatives,  the  Countess  Fanny  and  the  Aunt  Renau- 
din,  who  cared  for  them  while  their  mother  was  in 
prison.  But  for  weeks  Josephine  was  in  doubt  and 
her  heart  torn  with  anxiety.  As  she  crossed  the 
threshold  of  the  Carmelite  prison,  still  stained  with 
the  blood  of  the  September  victims,  she  shuddered 
with  dread  for  the  future,  yet  more  from  apprehen- 
sion for  those  dearer  to  her  than  life.  The  end,  she 
believed,  was  near  ;  yet  she  sustained  herself  with 
courage,  for  the  sake  of  those  looking  to  her  for 
assistance,  in  this  the  most  trying  hour  of  her  life. 
The  General  obtained  a  transfer  to  the  Convent,  but 
was  confined  in  a  different  quarter,  as  is  shown  by 
two  letters,  written  respectively  by  father  and 
mother,  to  their  children.  These  letters  are  full  of 
affection,  of  hope,  yet  necessarily  guarded  in  ex- 
pression, as  the  spies  of  the  Committee  were  on 
every  side.  The  mother's  is  dated  from  the  Prison 
of  the  Carmelites,  28th  April,  1794,  and  is  addressed 
to  Hortense,  probably  conveyed  to  her  by  some 
sympathizing  friend  :— 

"  MY  DEAR  LITTLE  HORTENSE  : 

"  It  pains  me  so  to  be  separated  from  thee  and  my 
dear  Eugene  :  I  think  of  my  darling  children  con- 
stantly, continually,  whom  I  love  and  now  embrace, 
with  all  my  heart.  JOSEPHINE." 

Equally  tender,  but  longer,  was  the  letter  sent  by 
the  General.  Few  opportunities  were  afforded  for 


JOSEPHINE.  137 

correspondence  with  their  dear  ones  ;  the  days 
dragged  dismally  away,  hopeless,  cheerless,  un- 
relieved by  news  from  them.* 

The  day  of  Josephine's  incarceration  witnessed 
the  execution  of  fourteen  magistrates  of  the  Paris 
parliament  ;  on  the  next  the  fatal  cart  carried  to  the 
scaffold  the  Due  de  Villery,  the  Admiral  d'Estaing, 
the  former  minister  of  war,  and  the  Comte  de  la 
Tour  du  Pin  ;  on  the  22d,  perished  d'Espremeuil, 
and  other  members  of  the  constituent  assembly, 
while  in  the  same  death-cart  were  the  venerable 
Malesherbes  and  his  sister,  the  Marquis  de  Chateau- 
briand and  his  wife,  the  Duchesse  de  Chatelet  and 
Grammont.  The  rumble  of  the  death-carts  was 
continuous,  and  many  of  the  old  friends  of  the 
Beauharnais  were  in  these  days  sent  to  the  guillotine. 
What  hope  could  there  be  for  them,  under  the 
shadow  of  suspicion,  allied  to  the  most  distinguished 
of  the  victims  ;  and  what  road  lay  before  them  other 
than  that  leading  direct  to  the  scaffold  ?  It  was  not 
solely  the  brave  officer  of  the  army,  martyr  to  his 
principles,  who  had  fought  vainly  for  the  republic, 
who  was  made  a  victim  of  injustice  ;  but  every  other 
person  whose  name  was  a  reminder  of  the  mon- 
archic regime. 

Companions  with  Josephine    in   captivity  were 

*  Very  few  letters  have  been  preserved,  of  those  which  were  con- 
jecturally  written,  at  this  and  the  period  immediately  preceding. 
Those  published  in  the  "Memoires  et  Correspondance  de  Plmpe'ra- 
trice  Josephine,  particularly,  were  subsequently  denounced  by 
Eugene.  Some  bear  the  impress  of  authenticity  ;  but  are  probably 
ex  post  facto. 


138  JOSEPHINE. 

some  of  the  noblest  of  the  women  of  France  :  as  the 
Duchesse  d'Aiguillon,  who  shared  with  her  the 
narrow  cell  once  occupied  by  a  sister  of  the  order. 
Another,  at  first  not  prominent,  but  who  eventually 
was  the  means  of  their  being  restored  to  freedom, 
was  a  certain  beautiful  woman  of  Spanish  birth, 
Mme.  de  Fontenoy,  suspected  mistress  of  one  of  the 
Committee.  Here  in  this  gloomy  prison  the  sweet 
and  sympathetic  character  of  Josephine  won  all 
hearts,  for  she  was  always  true  to  herself,  under 
whatever  adversity  of  fortune.  "  Benevolent  to  her 
inferiors,  amiable  to  her  equals,  polite  to  those  who 
assumed  to  be  her  superiors,  she  won  the  affectionate 
regard  of  all  her  companions  in  affliction." 

On  the  ninth  of  May,  1T94-,  Eugene  and  Hortense, 
then  aged  respectively  twelve  and  eleven,  addressed 
a  naive  and  pathetic  letter  to  the  Committee,  im- 
ploring the  release  of  their  mother,  whom  they 
declared  innocent  of  any  intention  of  harm,  and 
absolutely  necessary  to  their  existence. 

To  this  petition  the  callous  "  citoyens  "  turned  a 
deaf  ear,  and  they  remained  motherless  at  Fontaine- 
bleau,  with  their  aunt  and  the  Marquis.  Tradition 
has  it  that  Eugene  was  apprenticed  to  a  joiner,  and 
Hortense  to  a  seamstress,  during  the  period  of  their 
mother's  incarceration  ;  but  the  most  authentic 
history  of  their  lives  does  not  refer  to  this.  It  is 
more  probable  that  they  were  left  in  charge  of  their 
relatives,  who  consoled  them  so  far  as  possible  for 
their  loss  of  father  and  mother. 

Meanwhile,  the  guillotine  ceased  not  its  work  of 


JOSEPHINE.  139 

death  ;  its  daily  victims  could  now  be  counted  by 
scores,  even  as  high  as  fifty  and  sixty  at  a  time 
being  sent  to  fall  beneath  the  glittering  steel. 
"Soon,"  said  the  infamous  Fouquier-Tinville,  rub- 
bing his  hands  with  savage  glee,  "soon,  we  will 
vacate  all  the  prisons  and  put  up  over  their  doors, 
'houses  to  let.'  The  guillotine  works  well;  the 
heads  are  falling  like  slates  from  a  roof."  They 
were  falling  ;  but,  soon  after  the  opening  of  the 
year  1794,  other  heads  than  those  of  priests,  inno- 
cent women,  and  nobles,  were  brought  beneath  the 
axe.  For  dissension  had  appeared  within  the  com- 
mune itself  :  there  can  be  but  one  Lucifer  in  the  infer- 
nal regions  ;  there  was  room  for  but  one  Robespierre 
in  this  hell-vortex  of  the  revolution.  Even  the 
Hebretists,  the  enrages,  the  enraged  extremists,  in- 
curred the  displeasure  of  their  chief,  and  twenty  of 
them  perished  on  the  24th  of  March.  Danton,  the 
lion  of  the  Cordeliers,  and  Desmoulins,  were  the 
next  to  fall,  the  first  week  in  April,  leaving  supreme 
the  terrible  triumvirate,  Robespierre,  Couthon  and 
St.  Just.  But,  even  as  Danton  before  his  death  had 
predicted,  his  downfall  carried  with  it  all  the  others. 
Like  a  tree  of  the  tropical  forest,  bound  to  its  com- 
panions by  an  inextricable  network  of  lianes,  the 
giant  in  his  fall  dragged  to  the  ground  all  those 
about  him,  enmeshed  as  they  were  in  their  innu- 
merable crimes.  Not  one  head  could  be  lopped  off 
here,  and  another  there  :  all  must  be  severed  ;  the 
last  one  must  expiate  his  fiendish  deeds,  before  the 
tribunal  of  outraged  justice. 


140  JOSEPHINE. 

The  "  men  of  terror,"  tigers  caged  in  their  crimes, 
raged  among  themselves  ;  their  cruelties  redoubled, 
their  horrors  accumulated.  Carnot,  one  of  the  com- 
mittee, finds  his  own  name  among  the  list  of  "  sus- 
pects. "  Who  then  can  be  exempt  ?  Only  by  striking 
off  the  head  of  the  dictator  can  the  rest  even  hope 
for  reprieve.  His  doom  is  sealed,  yet  how  accom- 
plish it,  how  drag  forth  the  tiger  in  his  lair  ?  Only 
desperation  can  do  this  ;  only  an  arm  nerved  by  love 
of  life,  or  love  of  love,  can  send  the  dagger  to  the 
heart  of  the  tyrant.  It  is  there,  in  the  convention  ; 
it  is  wielded  by  one  Tallien,  a  man  steeped  in  deeds 
of  blood,  yet  having  heart  enough  to  be  in  love,-— 
with  a  fair  "suspect," — that  same  Madame  Fonte- 
noy,  friend  and  fellow-prisoner  of  Josephine. 

His  mistress  is  in  durance  ;  she  urges  him  to  give 
her  liberty,  for  the  death-axe  is  suspended  over  her, 
and  he  dares.  Dagger  in  hand,  he  denounces  the 
tyrant ;  stems  the  tide,  turns  it  against  the  arch- 
fiend, Robespierre,  who  is  decreed  "accused." 

He  is  arrested  ;  escapes ;  is  driven  to  bay,  and 
shoots  himself  through  the  jaw  ;  but  the  next  day 
the  death- tumbrils  bear  him  and  his  fellow-con- 
spirators to  the  guillotine.  As  Samson  lifts  his 
mangled  head  to  the  view  of  the  populace,  a  mighty 
shout  announces  that  the  man-of-blood  has  fallen  ; 
the  tryant  is  dead.  Paris,  and  France  breathe  more 
freely  now  ;  the  suspects  in  the  prisons  may  rejoice, 
for  they  will  soon  be  set  at  liberty. 

But  there  is  one  ear  deaf  to  the  shouts  of  an  eman- 
cipated people  ;  one  whose  fortunes  we  are  follow- 


JOSEPHINE.  141 

ing,  to  whom  the  death  of  Robespierre  conveyed  no 
import.  Three  days  previously,  Alexandre  de  Beau- 
harnais  had  met  his  fate  ;  the  twenty -eighth  of  July, 
was  a  date  now  meaningless  to  him.  The  star 
of  Beauharnais  had  set.  Five  days  before  he  had 
been  taken  before  the  dread  Tribunal.  He  was 
accused  of  nothing  except  he  was  guilty  of  bearing 
an  aristocratic  name.  Foredoomed,  and  aware  of 
his  impending  fate,  yet  he  defended  himself  with 
ability,  confounding  his  accusers,  refuting  their 
accusations,  in  vain  ;  he  was  condemned  to  death. 

He  was  returned  to  prison,  whence,  the  day  before 
his  death,  he  indited  a  last  letter  to  his  wife,  bidding 
her  farewell,  expressing  sentiments  of  the  most 
exalted  patriotism,  of  conjugal  affection,  of  pater- 
nal solicitude  :  "Night  of  the  6th  Thermidor, 
Year  2  (July  24th,  1794),  .  .  .  Yet  some  moments 
to  tenderness,  to  tears  and  to  regrets,  then  wholly 
to  the  glory  of  my  fate,  to  the  grandest  thoughts  of 
immortality.  When  you  receive  this  letter,  my 
Josephine,  your  husband  will  have  ceased  to  live.  .  .  . 
Thy  generous  soul  pardoned  the  moment  that  sor- 
row overtook  me.  .  .  .  What  thanks  do  I  owe  to 
Providence,  who,  I  trust,  will  bless  thee.  .  .  .  Now 
Heaven  disposes  of  me  before  my  time  ;  and  even 
this  is  one  of  its  mercies.  ...  I  have  just  under- 
gone a  cruel  formality  :  my  hair  has  been  cut  off.  I 
have  contrived  to  purchase  back  a  lock  of  it,  that  I 
may  bequeath  to  my  wife  and  to  my  children  this 
last  pledge  of  my  affection,  of  my  last  recollection. 
I  feel  that  at  this  thought  my  heart  is  breaking, 


142  JOSEPHINE. 

and  my  tears  bedew  the  paper.  Farewell,  all  that 
I  love  !  Love  each  other,  speak  often  of  me  ;  and 
never  forget  that  the  glory  of  dying  the  victim  of 
tyrants,  the  martyr  of  freedom,  ennobles  the  scaf- 
fold." 

He  carried  to  the  scaffold  the  same  lofty  disdain  for 
death  that  had  distinguished  him  in  his  attacks  upon 
the  enemies  of  his  country.  Eegret  at  leaving  behind 
him  his  dearest  and  most  beloved,  the  prey  to  fac- 
tion and  at  the  mercy  of  his  deadliest  enemies,  caused 
him  the  greatest  pain.  In  the  fatal  death-cart  he 
grasped  the  hand  of  a  single  friend, — but  with  what 
feelings  may  be  imagined — that  of  the  Prince  of 
Salm-Kirbourg,  who  had  risked  and  lost  his  life  by 
returning  to  Paris  with  the  children  of  Beauhar- 
nais. 

Thus  perished,  on  the  24th  of  July,  1794,  at  the 
age  of  thirty- four,  Alexandre  de  Beauharnais, 
first  husband  of  Josephine,  father  of  the  Prince 
Eugene  and  Queen  Hortense. 

A  generous  heart,  a  proud  and  lofty  spirit ;  above 
all,  a  man  honest  and  sincere  ;  by  his  premature 
death  his  country  lost  a  great  military  genius,  who 
would  have  skillfully  combated  her  enemies. 

Carried  away  by  the  impetuosity  of  youth,  im- 
patient of  even  the  slight  restraint  of  his  married 
life,  he  had  grossly  wronged  the  noble  companion 
Heaven  had  bestowed  upon  him.  But,  so  far  as 
possible,  in  the  four  years  preceding  his  death,  he 
had  reclaimed  himself  ;  had  endeavored  to  atone 
for  his  misdeeds,  by  a  devotion  that  lasted  even  to 


JOSEPHINE.  143 

the  foot  of  the  scaffold.  On  her  part,  she  had  not 
only  pardoned  him,  but  ever  strove  to  conceal  his 
conduct  during  the  years  of  their  separation,  from 
his  children.  They  knew  him  only  as  high-minded 
and  honorable,  and  as  such  cherished  his  memory. 

Although  apprehensive  of  the  worst,  yet  Josephine 
was  not  aware  of  his  death  until  she  saw  it  published 
in  the  daily  bulletin  of  victims,  two  days  afterwards. 
She  had  hoped  till  then  ;  but  this  frightful  blow 
stretched  her  upon  the  prison  floor  unconscious. 

It  was  hours  before  she  recovered  consciousness  ; 
then  she  accepted  with  apparent  calmness  the  in- 
evitable decree,  and  prepared  herself  for  a  similar 
fate,  which,  she  had  reason  to  believe,  would  not  be 
long  delayed. 


144  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  DEATH. 

THE  Terror  ended  with  the  downfall  of  Robespierre 
and  the  Tribunal,  but  the  horror  of  it  lasted  many 
weeks  and  months,  even  years.  The  popular  agita- 
tion extended  itself  to  the  houses  of  detention,  where 
the  prisoners  felt  the  great  change  in  the  air,  but 
could  only  for  a  while  divine  what  had  happened. 
Many  of  them  were  already  under  sentence  of 
death,  seventy  were  marked  for  execution  on  the 
very  morning  that  Robespierre  perished.  Among 
those  who  had  received  the  "  act  of  accusation " 
condemning  her  to  the  scaffold,  was  Josephine  ; 
but,  stupefied  with  the  horror  of  her  husband's 
death,  and  benumbed  by  despair,  she  was  unable 
to  read  it.  Her  companions  gathered  around  her. 
"At  first  a  mournful  silence,  the  calmness  of  hope- 
less woe,  was  the  only  sentiment  manifested  towards 
me ; "  but  at  last  they  broke  out  into  lamentation 
of  her  fate.  Her  companions'  cries  awoke  her  from 
the  stupor  of  grief  and,  true  to  the  sentiment  of 
self-abnegation  which  ever  inspired  her,  she  endeav- 
ored to  cheer  those  who  were  condemned  to  perish 
with  her.  She  even  forced  a  smile  to  her  wan 
countenance  and  recalled  the  oracle  of  the  Mar- 


JOSEPHINE.  145 

tinique  prophetess,  reminding  them  that,  in  many 
particulars,  it  had  been  fulfilled,  and  that  she  firmly 
believed  in  its  consummation.  "  What,  I  con- 
demned to  death  ? "  she  said  with  a  mournful  smile. 
"  Have  no  fear,  my  friends.  Do  you  not  know,  I 
am  yet  to  be  a  queen  of  France  : — Je  serai  reine  de 
France."  And,  turning  to  her  intimate  companion, 
Mme.  d'Aiguillon,  she  added  :  "I  will  appoint  you 
my  dame  ffhonneur,"  a  promise  she  fulfilled  when 
raised  to  the  throne  ;  but  an  appointment  which 
Napoleon  would  not  sanction. 

This  sally  was  an  inspiration  of  despair,  which 
for  a  while  revived  her  drooping  spirits  ;  but  how 
could  hope  sustain  itself  in  the  face  of  the  too 
evident  preparations  for  her  execution  ?  The  brutal 
jailer  entered  the  cell  occupied  by  herself  and  Mme. 
d'Aiguillon,  saying  he  had  come  to  take  Josephine's 
bed  away,  for  the  use  of  another  prisoner.  "  How 
now,"  said  the  duchess,  lightly,  "  are  you  going  to 
give  her  a  better  one  ? "  "  No,  no,"  said  the  brute, 
with  a  significant  gesture,  "not  at  all ;  she  will  not 
need  another  very  soon."  It  was  the  9th  Thermidor ; 
the  fall  of  the  men  of  terror  had  been  accomplished ; 
but  in  the  prisons,  where  the  occupants  were  in 
ignorance  of  what  was  transpiring  outside,  reigned 
dark  despair.  Even  Josephine  had  resigned  herself  to 
the  belief  that  her  end  was  near,  and,  anticipating  the 
brutal  office  of  the  executioner,  had  cut  off  locks  of 
her  hair  to  be  sent  to  her  children,  as  a  last  momento 
of  their  loving  mother.  She  had  not  seen  them  for 

many  days,  and  had  been  granted  only  one  brief 
10 


146  JOSEPHINE. 

interview  with  her  husband,  two  days  before  his 
execution,  when,  their  hearts  bursting  with  grief, 
these  two  met  in  a  last  embrace.  His  last  thoughts 
were  of  her,  hers  of  their  children,  and  she  wrote 
them  a  letter  of  farewell,  to  be  delivered  after  she 
should  have  ceased  to  live.  In  this  pathetic  mes- 
sage she  says  : — "My  last  sigh  will  be  one  of  tender- 
ness, and  I  hope  my  last  words  may  prove  a  lesson. 
Time  was  when  I  could  impart  sweet  instruction  ; 
but  the  present  will  not  be  the  less  useful,  that  it 
has  been  given  in  the  season  of  calamity."  But  her 
destiny  was  not  so  soon  to  be  accomplished  ;  her  end 
was  not  yet  come  ;  from  the  profoundest  depths  of 
despair  she  was  to  rise  to  the  pinnacle  of  supreme 
fortune. 

One  of  her  companions,  looking  through  the 
grated  window  of  her  cell,  saw  a  woman  in  the  street 
making  signs  to  her.  When  the  woman  noted  that 
she  was  observed  she  seized  her  robe  significantly. 
For  a  moment  she  was  at  a  loss  to  grasp  the  mean- 
ing of  this  pantomime,  then  she  nodded  :  "Kobe" 
was  the  word  the  woman  meant  to  convey.  Seeing 
that  she  was  understood,  she  stooped  and  picked  up 
a  stone  :  "  Pierre — Eobespierre  !  "  It  dawned  upon 
the  prisoner  that  something  eventful  had  occurred 
to  the  arbiter  of  their  fate,  and  she  awaited  breath: 
lessly  the  next  development. 

The  woman  threw  the  robe  from  her  violently,  at 
the  same  time  dashing  the  stone  to  the  ground.  It 
flashed  upon  the  prisoner  :  Robespierre  had  fallen  ; 
the  woman  drew  her  hand  across  her  neck  ;  he  had 


JOSEPHINE.  147 

been  guillotined  !  The  joyful  suspect  hastened  to 
communicate  the  glad  news,  and  soon  the  prison 
was  in  a  tumult ;  reprieved  from  death,  with  life 
and  all  its  joys  now  opening  out  before  them,  the 
prisoners  fell  into  each  other's  arms,  wept  and  sang. 
The  intelligence  so  strangely  conveyed  to  them  was 
soon  confirmed  by  the  altered  behavior  of  their 
jailers  ;  the  next  morning  they  were  free. 

Among  the  first  to  be  released,  Josephine  sought 
out  her  children,  pressed  them  to  her  bosom  in  a 
delirium  of  joy,  and  bedewed  them  with  her  tears. 
The  fear  of  re- arrest  was  not  absent,  and  she  hast- 
ened to  Fontainebleau,  where  she  was  soon  joined 
by  her  sister-in-law,  the  wife  of  the  emigre,  and 
where  she  remained  for  several  months.  The  family 
was  reunited,  the  only  absent  member  the  viscount, 
whose  memory  Josephine  mourned  sincerely,  in  the 
privacy  of  her  retirement.  She  had  long  since  for- 
given him  his  infidelities  and  his  neglect ;  she  only 
remembered  his  devotion  during  the  past  four  years, 
his  constancy  to  truth,  his  heroic  death. 


Here  ends  the  first  and  most  tragical  period  of 
Josephine's  existence,  when  she  was  left  a  widowed 
mother,  at  the  age  of  thirty-one.  She  was  in  the 
prime  of  early  womanhood,  her  youth  a  memory, 
the  future  dark  before  her.  Of  this  period  of  her 
life  which  we  have  scanned,  biographers  and  histo- 
rians have  given  us  few  details  ;  but  it  would  appear 


148  JOSEPHINE. 

that  it  was  not  the  least  interesting  ;  for  it  is  the 
prelude  to  the  second  chapter  of  her  career,  which 
finds  her  name  intimately  associated  with  that  of 
the  greatest  in  the  history  of  France.  Henceforth, 
after  a  brief  period  of  gloom,  we  shall  find  her  fort- 
une growing  brighter  and  more  brilliant,  as  we 
trace  her  successive  steps  to  fame,  as  the  wife  of 
General  Bonaparte,  consort  of  the  First  Consul,  and 
finally  Empress  of  the  French  ;  but  in  whatever 
station,  she  will  be  always  found  true  to  herself. 

Although  most  of  the  biographers  of  Josephine 
pass  abruptly  from  the  death  of  her  first  husband 
to  her  marriage  with  General  Bonaparte,  thus  leav- 
ing a  gap  of  nearly  two  years  in  her  life  unnoticed, 
still,  these  two  years,  though  the  least  known, 
are  not  to  be  overlooked.  Viewing  their  many 
omissions  and  misstatements,  we  might  with  truth 
assume  that  she  had  been  peculiarly  unfortunate  in 
her  biographers,  some  of  them  having  been  entirely 
ignorant  of  the  circumstances  of  her  early  life,  and 
others  unreliable  in  their  accounts  of  her  first  ac- 
quaintance with  the  great  Napoleon.  Even  in  later 
life,  she  has  been  subjected  to  misstatement  and 
misapprehension  of  motive,  especially  by  her  Eng- 
lish biographers,  who  have  allowed  their  hatred  of 
Bonaparte  to  extend  to  all  with  whom  he  was 
brought  into  intimate  contact.  They  have  neg- 
lected few  opportunities  to  disparage  Napoleon,  and 
to  insult  his  virtuous  consort. 

One  of  the  first  acts  of  Mme.  de  Beauharnais, 
after  finding  herself  at  liberty,  was  to  announce  the 


JOSEPHINE.  149 

fact  to  her  sorrowing  mother,  so  long  kept  in  sus- 
pense, so  long  torn  with  doubts  as  to  the  safety  of 
her  daughter,  in  distant  Martinique. 

While  apprehensive  as  to  the  fate  of  her  child, 
during  the  Reign,  of  Terror,  Madame  de  La-Pagerie 
herself  narrowly  escaped  being  submerged  in  the 
tide  of  civil  strife  that  desolated  her  native  island. 
Animated  by  the  same  sanguinary  principles  that 
prevailed  in  France,  Royalists  and  Republicans 
fought  each  other  as  fiercely  as  in  the  mother- 
country,  and  the  fair  land  was  bathed  in  blood. 
The  troops  were  under  command  of  the  governor, 
Rochambeau,  who  offered  to  Mme.  de  La-Pagerie, 
as  the  mother-in-law  of  one  of  the  generals  of  the 
republic,  a  refuge  at  the  fort.  But  this  the  mother 
of  Josephine  would  not  accept,  although  there  had 
been  an  attack  upon  the  quarter  of  Trois-Ilets,  in 
June,  1793  ;  and  she  remained  upon  the  plantation. 

The  estates  adjoining  were  ravaged  and  the  great 
houses  burned,  but  Sannois  de  La-Pagerie  was  pro- 
tected by  both  contending  parties.  In  the  midst  of 
the  civil  war,  the  English,  taking  advantage  of  the 
disturbed  condition  of  the  island,  attacked  Fort 
Royal,  finally  compelling  Rochambeau  to  surrender, 
though  after  a  most  desperate  defense.  Among 
those  liberated  on  parole,  with  the  privilege  of  retiring 
to  their  plantations,  was  the  Baron  de  Tascher,  Jose- 
phine's uncle,  who  thus  followed  the  course  pursued 
by  her  father,  some  thirty  years  before,  and  two 
years  before  her  birth.  This  was  in  1794.  The  Eng- 
lish being  not  only  masters  of  the  island  but  of  the 


150  JOSEPHINE. 

ocean,  correspondence  between  Martinique  and  the 
home  country  was  extremely  precarious,  many  letters 
being  intercepted,  and  lost  forever  to  their  intended 
recipients.  This  will  account  for  the  absence  from 
the  family  archives  of  any  reply  to  the  first  letter  or 
letters,  written  by  Josephine  to  her  mother.  Four 
months  after  her  deliverance,  or  on  the  20th  of 
November,  1794,  she  addressed  another  letter  to  her 
mother,  trusting  to  a  more  prosperous  fortune  than 
had  attended  its  predecessors,  and  this  missive  is  still 
in  existence.  It  is  superscribed  : — "  To  the  widow 
La-Pagerie,  on  her  estate  at  Trois-Ilets,  island  of 
Martinique,"  and  in  it,  after  explaining  that  it  was 
entrusted  to  the  care  of  a  gentleman  bound  for  New 
England,  via  the  French  islands,  Josephine  says  : 

"  I  shall  be  happy  if  it  reach  you,  with  the  assur- 
ance that  your  daughter  and  grandchildren  are 
well.  You  are  doubtless  already  aware  of  my  mis- 
fortunes :  that  I  have  now  been  four  months  a 
widow,  and  left  with  only  my  children  to  console  me, 
and  my  dear  mamma  as  my  sole  support.  .  .  .  My 
dearest  wish  is  some  day  to  be  reunited  to  you,  and 
I  live  only  in  the  hope  that  this  desire  may  be 
realized.  Adieu,  my  dear  mamma  ;  we  all  embrace 
you,  and  not  a  day  passes  that  we  do  not  speak  of 
you,  and  of  our  hope  of  seeing  you  in  good  time. 
Again,  farewell.  From  your  daughter,  who  loves 
you  with  all  her  heart." 

"LA-PAGERIE,  veuve  BEAUHARNAIS." 

"Do  not  forget  loving  remembrances  to  all  our 
relatives  and  friends  and  a  greeting  to  all  the 

servants." 


JOSEPHINE.  151 

Ever  the  same,  loving  and  thoughtful,  remember- 
ing even  the  negroes  on  the  estate,  Josephine  forgot 
nobody,  even  when  herself  in  deep  distress.  ...  In 
apprising  her  mother  of  her  frightful  experiences, 
she  could  not  but  have  represented  to  her  the  desti- 
tute condition  in  which  she  and  her  children  had 
been  left :  their  property  had  been  confiscated,  their 
friends  imprisoned.  During  the  year  1792,  the 
general  had  been  obliged  to  absent  himself  with  the 
army,  and  his  scant  pay,  always  irregular  and  some- 
times withheld,  was  the  sole  support  of  his  family. 
By  the  imprisonment  of  the  heads  of  the  household, 
every  resource,  of  whatever  kind,  was  entirely  cut 
off.  It  was  in  pitiable  poverty  that  freedom  found 
the  widow  of  Beauharnais  ;  but  poverty  was  at  that 
time  universal,  and  to  be  poor  was  considered  no 
disgrace.  To  such  depths  were  the  noblesse  de- 
scended, that  among  them  friends  shared  with  each 
other  their  last  franc,  their  last  crust  of  bread.  It 
cannot  be  denied  that  the  vicomtesse  was  reduced 
to  the  last  extremities  of  poverty,  that  starvation 
seemed  imminent,  and  that  she  hardly  knew  which 
way  to  turn  for  relief.  In  her  extremity,  what 
more  natural  than  that  she  should  appeal  to  her 
mother,  still  residing  upon  the  home  estate,  to  which 
she  was  sole  heir,  after  her  mother's  demise  ? 

We  find  this  appeal  in  a  letter  bearing  date  1st  of 
January,  1795. 

"MY  DEAREST  MOTHER: — At  last,  through  the 
kindness  of  our  good  friend,  Emmery,  I  have  op- 


152  JOSEPHINE. 

portunity  for  communicating  with  you,  and  I  em- 
brace it  eagerly.  I  hope  this  message  from  your 
poor  Yeyette  and  her  children  will  reach  you  ;  for 
she  has  great  need  of  your  sympathy  ;  her  heart 
yearns  for  that  of  which  she  has  been  so  long  de- 
prived. .  .  .  You  must  be  aware  by  this  time,  of 
the  misfortunes  that  have  befallen  me,  and  must 
know  that  I  have  no  other  recourse  than  to  you  for 
the  means  of  my  existence.  ...  I  am  not  only 
widowed,  but  am  deprived  of  my  husband's  prop- 
erty ;  and  without  the  assistance  of  our  good  friends, 
Emmery  and  his  partner  (bankers,  or  brokers,  to 
whom  the  La-Pagerie  sugars  had  been  remitted  and 
upon  which  they  advanced),  I  do  not  know  how  I 
should  have  maintained  myself  alive.  ...  I  know 
too  well  your  regard  for  my  honor  to  have  the 
least  doubt  that  you  will  supply  me  with  the  means 
for  subsistence  and  to  requite  my  indebtedness  to 
them.  ...  I  shall  have  to  depend  upon  your  bounty 
entirely,  and  must  beg  that  you  make  me  a  remit- 
tance at  least  every  three  or  four  months.  .  .  .  The 
children  are  well ;  they  love  you  and  send  you  their 
tenderest  greetings,  in  which  I  join.  We  are  look- 
ing forward  to  the  time  when  we  shall  be  once  more 
reunited,  never  more  to  be  separated ;  and  this  is 
the  dearest  wish  of  your  poor  Yeyette.  Farewell,  I 
again  embrace  you,  with  all  my  heart  and  soul. 

"  LA-PAGERIE,  veuve  BEAUHARNAIS." 

The  mother  was  able  to  remit  but  small  sums,  and 
at  long  intervals,  and  Josephine's  position,  depend- 


JOSEPHINE.  153 

ent  as  she  was  upon  them,  became  from  day  to  day 
more  precarious.  Through  their  assistance,  how- 
ever, she  was  enabled  to  live  during  the  "starva- 
tion time "  of  1795 ;  though,  in  common  with 
many  others  of  her  class,  she  was  at  times  at  loss 
to  procure  a  morsel  of  daily  bread. 

Finally,  acting  upon  the  advice  of  the  friends  at 
Dunkirk,  to  which  port  the  Martinique  sugars  were 
shipped,  she  resolved  to  make  a  flying  visit  to  Ham- 
burg, where  was  established  the  banking-house 
through  which  her  remittances  were  received.  She 
arrived  there  towards  the  last  of  October,  and  was 
cordially  received  by  the  banker,  M.  Mathiessen, 
through  whose  advice  she  was  enabled  to  effect 
three  bills  of  exchange  on  Martinique,  as  appears 
from  a  letter  to  her  mother,  dated  30th  October, 
1795,  from  Hamburg 

"  You  will  receive,  then,  my  dear  mamma,  three 
bills  of  exchange,  drawn  upon  you  from  Hamburg, 
the  25th  October,  at  three-months'  sight,  in  my 
favor,  in  three  sums,  as  follows  :  400,  350,  and  250 
pounds  sterling.  ...  I  need  not  remind  you  how 
necessary  it  is  to  honor  these  drafts,  since  they  are 
for  the  reimbursement  of  the  friends  who  have  so 
generously  assisted  me  and  my  children.  .  .  . 

"  Why  do  you  hesitate  to  rejoin  us,  my  dear 
mamma  ?  Think  how  much  trouble  and  vexation 
your  coming  would  save  your  dear  Yeyette,  who 
lives  only  in  the  expectation  of  soon  seeing  you,  and  of 
realizing  the  hopes  she  has  so  long  and  so  ardently 
cherished.  It  is  also  the  advice  of  our  friends  :  to 


154  JOSEPHINE. 

convert  everything  possible  into  funds,  and  come  to 
us  as  soon  as  agreeable,  to  rejoin  your  own  children, 
who  love  you  and  will  ever  cherish  you.  Eeceive 
this  assurance  of  tenderest  regard,  my  good  and 
well-beloved  mamma. 

"  LA-PAGERIE,  veuve  BEAUHARNAIS. 

"  My  father-in-law  and  aunts  are  well.  Give  my 
tenderest  regards  to  all  my  friends  ;  remembrance 
to  the  domestics  ;  embrace  my  old  nurse  for  me." 

These  letters  show  conclusively  that,  however 
reduced  the  widow  of  the  Vicomte  Beauharnais 
may  have  become,  she  did  not  appeal  to  strangers  to 
assist  her,  nor  to  charity.  It  was  to  her  commercial 
agents  at  Dunkirk,  where  the  sugar  of  the  Mar- 
tinique plantation  were  shipped  for  sale  ;  and  to  her 
banker  at  Hamburg,  through  whom  the  financial 
transactions  were  conducted,  that  this  courageous 
mother  and  sagacious  woman  had  recourse.  It 
is  possible  that  she  may  have  received  assistance 
from  others,  but  there  is  no  authentic  record  of  it. 
These  letters,  speaking  eloquently  through  the  for- 
gotten years  of  the  century  past,  dispel  the  cobwebs 
of  fancy  and  invention,  of  envy  and  hate,  which  have 
been  woven  about  the  memory  and  deeds  of  this 
daughter  of  the  La-Pageries.  In  order  to  explain 
her  continued  existence  during  the  terrible  period  of 
distress  subsequent  to  her  marriage  with  Napoleon, 
her  detractors  have  assailed  her  virtue  and  her 
integrity,  when,  as  we  have  seen,  neither  did  she 


JOSEPHINE.  155 

barter  the  one,  nor  depart  from  the  other.  She 
could  not  have  been  other  than  she  was ;  we 
are  not  warranted  in  assuming,  and  we  have  no 
reason  for  believing,  that  she  was  faithless  to  her 
character,  as  we  have  seen  it  developed  under  adver- 
sity and  sorrow,  faithless  to  her  children,  nor 
faithless  to  the  memory  of  her  husband.  She  bore 
herself  serenely,  faithful  to  her  charge,  loyal  to  her 
friends,  unremitting  in  her  efforts  to  heal  the 
wounds  and  conceal  the  scars  of  the  days  of  the 
Terror. 


156  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MADAME  TALLIEN  AND  THE  DIRECTORY. 

"  THE  Terror  ended,  a  season  of  luxury  succeeds 
the  reign  of  poverty.  Tallien's  mistress,  now  wife,* 
establishes  her  sa/cw,  and  gives  brilliant  soirees.  .  .  . 
Bound  her  is  gathered  a  new  Republican  army  of 
citoyennes  in  sandals ;  ci-devants,  or  other ;  what 
remnants  soever  of  the  old  grace  survives  are 
gathered  there.  .  *  .  At  her  right  hand  in  this  cause 
labors  fair  Josephine,  the  Widow  Beauharnais, 
though  in  straitened  circumstances  ;  intent,  both  of 
them,  to  blandish  down  the  grimness  of  Republican 
austerity,  and  re-civilize  mankind.  .  .  .  Grim  gen- 
erals of  the  Republic  are  there  .  .  .  among  which  do 
we  not  recognize  once  more  that  little,  bronze-com- 
plexioned  artillery  officer  of  Toulon,  home  from  the 
Italian  wars  ? .  .  Somewhat  forlorn,  for  the  present, 
stands  that  artillery  officer  ;  looks  with  those  deep, 
earnest  eyes  of  his  into  a  future  as  waste  as  the  most. 
He  stands  there,  without  work  or  outlook,  in  this 
forsaken  manner  ;  glances,  nevertheless,  it  would 
seem,  at  the  kind  glance  of  Josephine  Beauharnais  ; 
and  for  the  rest,  with  severe  countenance,  with  open 
eyes  and  closed  lips,  waits  what  will  betide." 

*  Jeanne  Marie  Ignace  Therese  Cabarrus,  born  in  Saragossa,  Spain, 
1775  ;  Divorced  from  Tallien,  1802  ;  married  the  Prince  of  Chimay. 
Died  in  Belgium,  Jan.  15, 1835. 


JOSEPHINE.  167 

In  order  to  understand  the  current  of  events  that 
had  borne  Josephine  from  prison  into  the  society  of 
the  ruling  parties,  we  must  retrace  our  steps,  and 
gather  up  the  threads  that  wove  this  rope  of  circum- 
stance. A  fellow-prisoner  with  the  Widow  Beau- 
harnais  and  her  companion  suspects  was  the  beauti- 
ful Madame  de  Fontenoy,  the  daughter  of  Count 
Cabarrus,  Spanish  minister  of  finance,  who,  at  an 
early  age,  had  been  married  to  M.  de  Fontenoy,  a 
councillor  to  the  parliament  of  Bordeaux.  She  was 
unhappy  with  her  husband,  and  secured  a  divorce 
shortly  before  meeting  with  Tallien,  who,  in  1793, 
had  been  sent  on  a  mission  by  the  Convention  to 
Bordeaux.  "  In  Bordeaux  rules  Tallien,  bristly, 
fox-haired  Tallien,  still  young  in  years,  now  become 
most  gloomy,  potent  ;  Pluto  on  earth,  and  has  the 
keys  of  Tartarus."  This  in  allusion  to  his  crimes 
as  agent  of  the  revolutionary  committee.  .  .  .  But 
there  he  metMme.  de  Fontenoy,  "  brown,  beautiful 
woman,  daughter  of  Cabarrus ;  .  .  .  who  became 
his  mistress,  whom  he  would  wed."  She  was  born 
in  Saragossa,  Spain,  about  1775,  and  was  thus  some 
twelve  years  the  junior  of  Josephine.  Her  beauty 
was  such  as  to  cause  a  decided  sensation  in  Paris, 
and  her  fame  filled  the  ears  of  all.  But  she  did  not 
escape  arrest,  even  though  the  powerful  Tallien  had 
fallen  in  love  with  her,  and  she  was  incarcerated  with 
the  other  suspects  of  the  Revolution.  It  was  her  im- 
prisonment, and  the  imminent  danger  of  her  execu- 
tion, that  led  Tallien  to  make  his  desperate  on- 
slaugkt  upon  Robespierre  ;  and  thus  she  was  in- 


158  JOSEPHINE. 

directly  the  cause  of  the  release,  not  only  of  Jose- 
phine, but  of  many  others.  She  was  not  only  hand- 
some, but  generous,  kind  and  amiable ;  and  one  of 
the  ladies  whom  she  had  been  the  means  of  saving 
from  death  said  of  her  :  "  If  you  call  Mme.  Bona- 
parte our  Lady  of  Victory,  you  must  call  Mme. 
Tallien  our  Lady  of  Good  Help." 

She  was  the  acknowledged  queen  of  fashion,  after 
the  establishment  of  the  Directory,  and  "set  the 
pace  "  for  the  ladies  of  her  small  court ;  though  all 
may  not  have  followed  in  it.  In  truth,  her  "  revolu- 
tionary reputation"  was  urged  against  her  appear- 
ance at  the  court  of  Napoleon,  when,  by  that  strange 
turn  of  Fortune's  wheel,  Josephine  was  the  first 
lady  in  France.  The  latter  never  forgot  her  in- 
debtedness, however,  to  Mme.  Tallien,  and  would 
have  bestowed  honors  upon  her,  but  for  the  interdict 
of  her  royal  master.  Although  Tallien  had  dared 
death  for  love  of  her,  yet  the  possession  of  this 
beautiful  woman  did  not  fully  realize  his  hopes. 
After  a  few  years  of  married  life,  during  which  she 
bore  him  several  children,  they  were  divorced,  in 
1802.  She  was  wont  to  appear  at  the  Tuileries  in 
a  Greek  costume,  clinging  and  semi-transparent, 
which  displayed  more  of  her  transcendent  charms 
than  was  agreeable  to  her  husband's  wishes.* 

*  Tallien,  Jean  L.,  born  in  Paris  1767  ;  died  Nov.,  1820. 

In  1791  became  a  member  of  the  Jacobin  Club  ;  '92,  clerk  of  the 
Commune  ;  '  93,  sent  on  mission  to  Bordeaux  ;  '94  denounced  Robes- 
pierre ;  '95  assisted  in  the  establishment  of  the  Directory;  '98,  ac- 
companied Bonaparte  to  Egypt,  as  one  of  the  "  scientific  men  ;  " 
taken  by  the  English  on  the  return  voyage ;  1802,  divorced  from 


JOSEPHINE.  159 

But  for  the  lives  of  those  dependent  upon  her, 
but  for  their  welfare,  it  would  seem  that  Josephine 
would  rather  have  accepted  death  itself,  than  en- 
dure the  humiliation  of  relief  from  such  a  source  as 
the  revolutionary  monster,  Tallien.  Yet  that  was  but 
one  of  the  factors  in  the  leveling  process  by  which 
the  noblesse  were  humbled  to  the  earth  ;  made  to 
consort  with  the  very  agents  of  their  misery,  the 
blood  of  their  own  relations  still  red  on  their  hands. 
Tallien  was  a  type  of  Jacobinism  ;  of  the  proletariat, 
now  risen  to  the  surface.  The  son  of  the  house 
steward  of  the  Marquis  of  Bercy,  he  rose  by  his  own 
talents  to  a  position  of  influence  in  the  commune, 
becoming  its  clerk  in  1792,  and  deputy  to  the  Con- 
vention from  the  department  of  Seine  et  Oise.  He 
took  his  seat  among  the  Montagnards,  voted  for  the 
death  of  Louis  XVI.,  and  was  one  of  the  bitterest 
of  the  members  of  the  Jacobin  Club.  In  1793  he 
was  sent  to  Bordeaux  as  an  emissary  of  the  revolu- 
tionary party,  where  he  committed  great  atrocities. 
In  1795,  as  commissioner  of  the  Convention,  he 
ordered  all  the  Royalist  prisoners  taken  by  General 
Hoche  to  be  shot.  He  was  cruel,  remorseless,  un- 
sparing, pitiless.  After  the  fall  of  Robespierre  he 
was  for  a  time  the  acknowledged  leader  of  the 
"Thermidoreans,"  and  through  his  influence  the 
infamous  Fouquier-Tinville  and  his  accomplices 
were  doomed  to  the  guillotine.  His  courage  was 
undoubted,  and  he  was  among  the  ablest  defenders 

Mme.    Tallien,  by  whom  he  had  four  children  ;    1805,  appointed 
consul  to  Alicante. 


160  JOSEPHINE. 

of  the  Convention  against  the  rebellious  sections  of 
Paris,  and  shared  in  the  Eepublican  coup  d'etat  of 
the  "Eighteenth  Fructidor."  His  influence  was 
strongest  in  the  interim  between  the  overthrow  of 
the  revolutionary  tribunal  and  the  establishment  of 
the  Directory,  when  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the 
"Council  of  Five  Hundred." 

At  length  the  Directory  was  established,  upon 
the  ruins  of  what  remained  after  three  years  of 
anarchy  and  misrule.  The  revolution  had  destroyed 
itself  ;  the  most  culpable  of  the  blood-stained  con- 
spirators had  fallen  by  their  own  hands,  their  heads 
dissevered  by  their  own  instrument  of  decapitation. 
Some  remained  for  years  unpunished,  their  many 
crimes  unavenged ;  they  themselves  took  the  lead 
in  the  formation  of  a  stable  government  or  an  at- 
tempt at  such.  The  thousands  who  had  perished 
made  no  protest,  except  through  those  once  bound 
to  them  by  ties  of  blood,  safe,  though  impotent,  be- 
yond the  frontiers  of  France.  Those  remaining 
dared  not  raise  their  voice  ;  they  must  accept  the 
terms  their  masters  should  see  fit  to  dictate.  It 
was  enough,  for  the  present,  that  the  more  moderate 
had  returned  to  power,  or  were  striving  to  grasp 
within  their  hands  the  reins  of  government.  From 
the  chaos  of  anarchy  the  ark  of  safety  finally  ap- 
peared, long  to  be  tossed  on  the  tumultuous  waves 
of  passion  and  intrigue  ;  destined  never  to  land  on 
the  shore  of  security  ;  but  bearing  messengers  of 
peace  to  a  long-suffering  people.* 

*  Carlyle. 


JOSEPHINE.  161 

In  the  year  1795,  as  the  result  of  the  earnest 
efforts  of  the  moderate  Republicans,  the  legislative 
power  was  declared  vested  in  two  assemblies  :  the 
Council  of  Five  Hundred,  and  the  Council  of  the 
Ancients  ;  the  former  having  the  exclusive  right  of 
proposing  laws  for  the  consideration  of  the  latter. 
The  actual  power  was  to  be  lodged  in  an  Executive 
Directory  of  five  members,  to  be  chosen  by  the 
Council  of  the  Ancients,  from  a  list  presented  by 
the  Five  Hundred.  The  new  "Constitution  of  the 
Year  III."  was  acceptable  to  the  people;  but  even 
in  its  birth  it  came  near  being  strangled  by  the 
Convention  that  was  responsible  for  its  existence. 
Desiring  to  peupetuate  their  power  and  to  provide 
a  check  for  Royalist  or  ultra-Jacobin  return,  the 
authors  of  the  new  constitution  decreed  that  two- 
thirds  the  new  assembly  of  500  should  be  chosen 
from  among  themselves  ;  hence  a  new  uprising  ;  of 
which  in  its  place. 

Without  anticipating  the  current  of  events,  it 
may  be  mentioned  that  France  was  ruled  by  the 
Directory  for  four  years,  during  which  period  it  had, 
altogether,  thirteen  members,  only  one,  Barras,  *  of- 
ficiating during  its  entire  term  of  official  life. 

*  Barras,  P.  F.  J.  N.,  born  1755  ;  1793  at  Toulon ;  '94,  instru- 
mental in  the  overthrow  of  Robespierre;  '95,  President  of  Conven- 
tion ;  October,  calls  Bonaparte  to  his  aid  to  quell  insurrection  of  the 
sections  ;  '98,  executes  the  coup  d'etat  which  banished  the  minority, 
18th  Fructidor;'  99,  reigns  for  a  while  paramount,  until  Directory  is 
overthrown  by  Bonaparte;  later,  conspired  with  Royalists,  and  was 
banished  until  after  the  restoration.  Died  1829  ;  memoirs  published 
1873  and  1895. 
ii 


162  JOSEPHINE. 

The  supreme  power  was  exercised  by  five  individ- 
uals, and  of  these  five  Barras  stands  forth  conspic- 
uous. With  his  name  that  of  Josephine  has  been 
associated,  to  her  discredit  ;  her  enemies  seizing 
upon  the  fact  of  their  alleged  intimacy  to  cast  the 
blight  of  suspicion  upon  her  every  act  and  motive. 

Barras  was  a  notable  figure  before  he  became  as- 
sociated with  the  ruling  members  of  the  Directory. 
He  had  served  in  the  East  Indies,  with  the  rank  of 
captain.  He  took  part  in  the  attack  upon  the 
Bastille  and  the  Tuileries,  and  was  elected  a 
member  of  the  first  Convention.  In  1T93,  he  was 
sent  to  the  south  of  France,  where  his  severities 
against  the  anti-revolutionists,  at  Toulon,  made 
him  prominent  as  a  devoted  Republican.  He  was 
one  of  the  most  active  in  the  revolt  of  the  ninth 
Thermidor,  leading  the  attack  upon  the  Robespier- 
rians,  and  commanding  the  troops  who  took  the 
arch-enemy  prisoner.  The  day  following  he  was  ap- 
pointed secretary  to  the  Convention  ;  in  November  a 
member  of  the  Committee  of  Safety  ;  an  ardent  per- 
secutor of  the  Montagnards,  as  well  as  of  the  Roy- 
alists and  emigres.  In  February,  1795,  he  was 
elected  president  of  the  Convention  ;  chosen  as  one 
of  the  five  members  of  the  Directory,  he  is  said  to 
have  used  his  position  to  gain  immense  wealth,  and 
to  procure  the  means  for  gratifying  his  passion  for 
debauchery. 

This  was  the  man  with  whom,  through  force  of 
circumstances,  Josephine  was  brought  into  contact. 
It  is  true,  that  his  reputation  was  bad,  perhaps 


JOSEPHINE.  163 

none  was  worse,  even  in  that  time  when  the  records 
of  personal  behavior  were  not  too  closely  scanned. 
It  is  to  be  feared  that  less  attention  was  given  to  the 
character  one  at  that  time  bore  than  to  the  position 
he  held.  It  was  a  period  of  disruption,  of  confusion, 
of  sauve-qui-peut ;  any  straw  would  be  grasped  by  the 
once  haughty  noblesse  that  gave  a  promise  of  extri- 
cation from  the  whelming  flood.  In  the  Memoirs 
of  Josephine  is  a  characterization  of  Barras,  which  if 
not  from  her  own  pen  (as  is  alleged),  at  least  gives 
a  contemporary  delineation  of  his  salient  features  : 
"  He  was  the  hope  of  all  parties,  but  espoused  none. 
He  severely  censured  the  men  of  the  revolution  and 
cast  contempt  upon  our  fierce  demagogues.  He  had 
just  cause  of  complaint  against  many  of  them  ;  yet, 
for  his  own  advantage,  he  caressed  them  all.  He 
wore  the  livery  of  no  faction.  .  .  .  His  youth  having 
been  boisterous  and  very  irregular,  he  was  despised 
by  the  nobility,  and  this  circumstance  probably  in- 
flamed his  zeal  in  favor  of  the  revolutionary  princi- 
ples. He  was  a  member  of  the  tribunal  that  sat  in 
judgment  on  the  king.  He  tendered  his  resigna- 
tion ;  it  was  not  accepted,  and  the  proposition  was  an- 
swered by  frightful  menaces.  The  Brutuses  of  the  as- 
sembly denounced  him  as  recusant,  and  fear  alone 
dictated  the  vote  he  gave  on  that  dread  occasion.  .  .  . 
Barras  became  acquainted  with  Bonaparte  when  on 
a  mission  into  one  of  the  southern  departments.  .  .  . 
After  the  rising  against  the  Convention,  Bonaparte 
had  held  the  post  of  general  of  the  troops  of  the 
division  of  Paris.  Not  feeling  within  himself  the 


164  JOSEPHINE. 

courage  to  repel  force  by  force,  Barras  authorized 
Bonaparte  to  reap  those  sterile  laurels.  .  .  .  This 
act  was  enough  for  those  two  men,  impelled  by  a 
thirst  for  celebrity,  and  proud  of  having  made  the 
capital  tremble.  The  moderation  of  the  one,  and 
the  foresight  of  the  other  had  made  the  Frenchmen 
who  were  most  resolute  in  opposing  the  acts  of  a 
power  as  feeble  as  it  was  arbitrary,  lay  down  their 
arms." 

Tallien,  Barras,  Bonaparte  :  these  three  names  link 
the  history  of  the  widow  of  Beauharnais  with  the 
most  eventful  period  of  the  French  revolution. 
One  after  the  other  descended,  retired  to  the  ob- 
scurity from  which  they  had  emerged,  until  only 
one  is  left  :  an  immortal  name,  with  which  that  of 
Josephine  is  inseparably  associated. 

By  an  arbitrary  decree  of  the  Convention,  which 
prescribed  that  two-thirds  of  the  assembly  should  be 
taken  from  its  own  ranks,  offense  was  given  both  to 
Royalists  and  middle-classes,  who,  most  strangely, 
united  in  an  uprising  against  their  newly-elected 
law-makers.  By  a  remarkable  reversal  of  fortune, 
the  Convention  found  itself  opposed  by  some  of  its  an- 
cient supporters,  and  allied  with  it  the  worst  of  the 
proletariats.  The  greater  strength  was  on  the  side 
of  the  Eoyalists,  who  prepared  for  a  conflict  to  the 
death  ;  only  prompt  and  determined  action  could 
save  the  Convention  from  annihilation. 

The  president  himself  was  a  man  of  courage  and 
energy,  he  made  the  best  disposition  possible  of  the 
troops  at  his  command  ;  but  he  hesitated  to  assume 


JOSEPHINE.  165 

the  responsibility  for  the  carnage  that  he  knew 
must  ensue  from  a  combat  at  close  quarters.  His 
indecision  cost  him,  eventually,  his  position ;  cost 
France  millions  of  soldiers  ;  elevated  into  prominence 
a  rival  who  soon  hurled  him  and  his  companions 
from  power.  At  Toulon,  while  on  his  southern 
mission,  Barras  had  met  Bonaparte,  whose  skillful 
strategy  had  delivered  that  port  from  the  English 
into  the  hands  of  the  French  Eepublicans. 

In  the  summer  of  1795  Bonaparte  was  in  Paris,  on 
the  verge  of  poverty,  without  employment.  He  had 
risen  to  the  rank  of  general  of  brigade,  but  had  been 
struck  off  the  list  of  employed  officers,  for  disobe- 
dience of  orders.  That  disobedience,  which  consisted 
in  a  refusal  to  proceed  to  the  west,  to  join  the  army 
of  Hoche,  was  the  cause  of  his  ultimate  elevation  to 
the  supreme  command  of  the  French  armies,  and 
placed  the  crown  of  France  upon  his  head.  For, 
while  the  members  of  the  assembly  were  in  a  painful 
state  of  indecision,  an  inspiration  came  to  Barras. 
Turning  to  his  colleagues,  he  exclaimed  :  "I  have 
the  man  we  want :  he  is  a  little  Corsican  officer,  who 
will  not  stand  upon  ceremony." 

Barras  was  appointed  commander-in-chief,  and 
Bonaparte  second  in  command  ;  but  upon  the  latter 
devolved  the  duty  of  repelling  the  oncoming  sec- 
tions. With  what  energy  he  did  it ;  with  what  skill 
he  posted  his  troops,  defending  the  salient  points  of 
attack ;  concentrating  at  exposed  positions,  mow- 
ing down  the  enraged  soldiers  of  the  national  guard 
with  his  artillery  ;  all  this  has  passed  into  history. 


166  JOSEPHINE. 

It  was  the  turning-point  of  his  career,  the  meeting 
of  the  ways  at  which,  arrived,  he  did  not  hesitate 
which  road  he  would  take.  At  his  orders,  came 
that  "whiff  of  grape-shot"  six  years  delayed  from 
old  Broglie's  time  ;  six  years  too  long  delayed  for 
the  good  of  royalty — which  changed  the  fortunes 
of  France,  of  the  world.  In  less  than  an  hour  of 
actual  fighting  he  had  saved  the  Convention,  had 
converted  the  attack  into  a  retreat,  into  a  rabble 
rout.  .  .  .  This  was  the  formidable  uprising  of  the 
sections  against  legally-constituted  authority,  known 
as  the  thirteenth  Vendemiaire.  After  it  was  over, 
the  strange  spectacle  was  presented  of  each  gen- 
eral in  command  disclaiming  credit  for  the  action. 
Never  before  was  known  such  disinterestedness  ; 
for  neither  was  anxious  to  be  known  as  the  spiller 
of  Parisian  blood.  But  the  responsibility  for  the 
event  was  saddled  upon  Bonaparte,  who  in  turn 
sought  to  accredit  it  to  the  Royalists.  However,  it 
was  done ;  Paris  was  saved  a  revolution,  and  Bar- 
ras,  in  a  speech  before  the  Convention,  said,  with 
reference  to  Bonaparte:  "It  is  to  his  able  and 
prompt  dispositions  that  we  are  indebted  for  the  de- 
fense of  this  assembly,  around  which  he  had  posted 
the  troops  with  so  much  skill."* 

*Bourrienne,  "Memoirs  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte." 


JOSEPHINE.  167 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

GENERAL  BONAPARTE. 

NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE,  the  defender  of  the  Con- 
vention, the  hero  of  the  thirteenth  Vendemiaire, 
the  victor  over  the  Royalist  sections, — who  was  he  ? 
Suddenly  he  had  appeared  upon  the  scene  of  strife, 
guiding,  controlling  ;  as  abruptly,  after  the  deed 
was  done,  he  had  disappeared.  But  he  was  not 
unknown  to  the  Convention,  to  the  members  of  the 
Directory,  who,  even  in  the  turmoil  of  distracted 
labors,  had  kept  this  young  officer  of  artillery  in 
view.  Rather,  he  had  kept  himself  from  being  thrust 
out  of  sight,  had  reminded  them  of  his  services,  had 
furnished  them  with  a  plan  for  campaigning  in  Italy, 
which  had  commended  itself  to  their  best  judgment. 
But  who  was  he,  whence  had  he  come  ? 

May  we  be  pardoned  if  we  cite  what  already  the 
whole  world  knows  :  the  biography  in  brief  of  this 
remarkable  man  ? 

Born  at  Ajaccio,  island  of  Corsica,  August  15th, 
1769,  Napoleon  was  six  years  the  junior  of  Josephine, 
who  was  then  residing  with  her  parents  in  the  old  su- 
crerie  of  Sannois-la-Pagerie,  in  Martinique.  As  we 
have  already  noted,  both  were  born  in  remote  prov- 
inces of  France,  in  islands  held  by  the  force  of 


168  JOSEPHINE. 

arms,  and  frequently  wrested  from  their  possessors, 
by  the  varying  fortunes  of  war.  The  Bonapartes, 
like  the  La-Pageries,  were  of  noble  birth,  coming 
from  Tuscany  ;  but  at  the  time  their  most  illustri- 
ous son  was  born,  were  in  reduced  circumstances, 
living  a  retired  life  on  a  small  estate.  The  father 
of  Napoleon  died  while  the  son  was  a  youth,  leaving 
his  wife  with  a  large  family  ;  the  oldest,  Joseph, 
being  the  nominal  head,  but  Napoleon  the  actual, 
from  his  superior  force.  In  1779,  April  25th,  Napo- 
leon was  entered  at  the  Royal  Military  School  of 
Brienne,  in  France,  where  he  remained  five  years. 
In  a  report  of  the  inspector  of  the  royal  military 
schools,  in  1784,  is  this  description  of  the  young 
student  :— 

"  M.  de  Bonaparte  (Napoleon),  born  15th  August, 
1769,  height  4  feet,  10  inches,  10  lines  ;  in  the  fourth 
class  ;  has  a  good  constitution,  excellent  health  ; 
character  obedient,  upright,  grateful  ;  conduct, 
regular ;  has  always  been  distinguished  for  his 
application  to  mathematics  ;  is  passably  acquainted 
with  history  and  geography  ;  not  well  up  in 
ornamental  studies  or  in  Latin,  in  which  he  is 
only  in  the  fourth  class.  He  would  make  an  ex- 
cellent sailor.  He  deserves  to  be  passed  on  to  the 
Military  School  of  Paris." 

At  the  School  of  Brienne,  he  was  not  a  favorite 
with  his  companion-students,  owing  to  his  reserved 
disposition  and  his  fierce  Corsican  nature  ;  but  he 
was  easily  recognized  as  a  leader.  He  enjoyed  the 
society  of  his  elders  more  than  that  of  his  class- 


BONAPAUTK,I™  CONSUL  DE  LA  REP.  FRANC 


BONAPARTE,  FIRST  CONSUL. 


JOSEPHINE.  169 

mates,  one  with  whom  he  particularly  delighted  to 
converse  being  the  celebrated  Abbe  Eaynal,  to 
whom  he  later  dedicated  a  History  of  Corsica,  with 
which  his  leisure  hours  had  been  occupied. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen  he  was  sent  on  to  the 
Military  College  of  Paris,  in  accordance  with  the 
recommendation  of  the  inspector,  and  notwith- 
standing his  deficiency  in  Latin  and  the  "  orna- 
mental branches."  Again,  he  incurred  the  ill-will 
of  his  fellow-students,  as  well  as  of  the  faculty, 
by  addressing  a  memorial  to  one  of  his  superiors, 
upon  the  extravagance  of  the  beneficiaries  of 
this  college.  He  recommended  that  instead  of 
being  encouraged  in  leading  luxurious  lives,  with 
servants  at  their  command,  etc.,  they  should  be 
placed  under  Spartan  regulations,  with  frugal 
diet,  thus  to  become  hardy  and  temperate,  and 
good  examples  to  their  prospective  commands. 
This  recommendation  was  written  at  the  age  of 
sixteen.  In  October  of  the  same  year  Napoleon 
was  appointed  second  lieutenant,  in  a  brigade  of 
artillery,  and  sent  to  Valence,  where  he  remained 
nearly  a  year.  His  father  had  died  that  year,  in 
the  month  of  February,  at  the  early  age  of  thirty- 
eight. 

The  mother,  left  dependent  upon  her  relatives 
for  support,  was  ever  an  object  of  solicitude  to 
Napoleon,  upon  whom  she  relied  more  than  upon 
the  eldest  son,  Joseph.  In  1787,  he  obtained  leave 
to  visit  her,  remaining  absent  in  Corsica  for  nearly 
seven  months ;  returning  to  France;  he  obtained 


170  JOSEPHINE. 

an  extension  of  leave,  and  again  went  to  his  native 
island,  where  he  stayed  till  May,  1788. 

His  third  return  to  Corsica  was  not,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  prompted  altogether  by  filial  regard,  for 
we  find  him  engaged  in  revolutionary  movements 
during  a  good  part  of  his  stay,  which  lasted  from 
September,  1789,  to  June,  1791.  He  overstayed  his 
leave  some  eight  months,  an  absence  which  was 
subsequently  excused  on  his  pretext  of  contrary 
winds.  The  next  year  he  was  not  so  fortunate  as 
to  have  his  derelictions  overlooked,  and  he  was 
dismissed  from  the  service,  for  absence  without 
leave,  having  returned  to  Corsica  in  August,  1791, 
and  left  in  May,  1792  ;  all  the  time  being  occupied 
in  revolutionary  attempts.  In  June  he  might 
have  been  seen  in  Paris,  impoverished,  living  in 
obscure  lodgings,  out  of  favor  with  the  administra- 
tion, through  his  own  fault,  and  seeking  employ- 
ment. It  was  while  thus  disengaged,  a  rambler 
through  the  streets  of  Paris,  that,  one  day  in  June, 
in  company  with  his  friend,  his  former  school- 
mate and  future  secretary,  Bourrienne,  he  encoun- 
tered the  mob  on  its  way  to  the  attack  of  the 
Tuileries.  "  Let  us  follow  the  mob,"  said  Bona- 
parte to  his  chum ;  and,  taking  their  stand  in  a 
position  commanding  the  palace,  they  saw  the  dis- 
graceful scenes  enacted  that  proved  the  precursors 
of  the  royal  downfall.  They  saw  the  mob  enter 
the  palace,  saw  the  king  appear  at  one  of  the  win- 
dows with  the  red  cap  on  his  head.  And  Bona- 
parte indignantly  exclaimed,  his  sympathies  with 


JOSEPHINE.  171 

the  king:  "Why  have  they  let  in  that  rabble? 
They  should  have  swept  off  four  or  five  hundred  of 
them  with  the  cannon  ;  the  rest  would  then  have 
set  off  fast  enough." 

He  was  true  to  this  sentiment,  as  shown  in  his 
subsequent  defense  of  the  Convention  :  of  the  main- 
taining of  the  constituted  power,  as  against  the 
rabble,  the  canaille  of  the  capital. 

He  was  in  Paris  on  that  fatal  tenth  of  August, 
when  occurred  the  slaughter  of  the  Swiss  guard 
and  the  deposition  of  the  king.  These  events  did 
not  seem  to  affect  him  so  much  as  his  own  situa- 
tion, which  was  deplorable  in  the  extreme,  until, 
finally,  he  was  reinstated  ;  not  only  reinstated, 
but  promoted  to  the  grade  of  captain,  and  his 
back-pay  granted,  dating  from  the  time  of  his 
removal. 

This  was  the  last  of  August  ;  in  September,  he 
was  again  in  Corsica,  to  which  island  he  had  hur- 
ried with  succor  for  his  family,  and  also  to  par- 
ticipate in  another  revolutionary  attempt.  This 
latter  was  disastrous,  not  alone  to  himself  but  to 
his  family,  for  he  had  declared  against  Paoli,  the 
hero  of  Corsica,  under  whom  his  father  had  at  one 
time  served  as  adjutant.  A  former  admirer  of  the 
great  Corsican,  he  had  turned  against  him,  for 
reasons  which  were  to  him  sufficient,  but  which 
do  not  enter  into  this  discussion,  except  as  having 
a  bearing  upon  his  character.  As  that  is  not  now 
under  review,  we  will  not  proceed  to  details,  but 
merely  state  that  this  action  of  his  seems  the  least 


172  JOSEPHINE. 

defensible  of  any  since  he  had  arrived  at  the  age 
of  discretion.  The  Bonapartes,  driven  from  Cor- 
sica, landed  at  Nice,  in  July,  1Y93,  in  a  condition 
bordering  upon  destitution.  Napoleon  joined  his 
regiment  and  proceeded  against  Marseilles  and  Tou- 
lon. It  is  at  this  latter  port  that  the  name  of 
Napoleon  Bonaparte  appears  prominently  as  one  of 
the  officers  engaged  in  the  investment  of  that 
doomed  city.  He  was  placed  in  command  of  a  divi- 
sion of  artillery  ;  his  genius  detected  the  weak 
point  in  the  city's  defenses  ;  his  plan  of  attack  was  at 
once  adopted  ;  and  as  the  result  the  city  and  port 
were  taken.  Toulon  had  been  delivered  into  the 
hands  of  the  English,  by  the  royalists  and  moder- 
ates, as  a  means  of  protection  against  the  extrem- 
ists ;  but  through  the  instrumentality  of  Bonaparte 
— at  least,  mainly  through  the  adoption  of  his 
scheme  of  attack — the  English  fleet  was  obliged  to 
leave  the  harbor.  Toulon  was  left  to  the  mercies  of 
the  Republicans,  who  were  determined  to  make  a 
terrible  example  of  this  "  nest  of  traitors."  Orders 
were  sent  by  the  Convention  to  efface  Toulon  from 
the  earth,  together  with  its  inhabitants  ;  and  so  far 
as  possible  these  orders  were  carried  into  effect. 
Against  these  bloody  reprisals  Napoleon  had  the 
courage  to  protest,  but  without  avail';  for  he  was 
then  only  Major  of  Battalion,  promoted  19th  Octo- 
ber ;  after  the  taking  of  Toulon  (December  19th),  he 
was  provisionally  named  General  of  Brigade. 

At  Toulon  he  met  Barras  and  Freron,  whom  he 
was  to  encounter  later  in  Paris,  as  influential  mem- 


JOSEPHINE.  173 

bers  of  the  directing  powers.  They  saw  him  and 
knew  of  the  great  service  he  rendered  their  com- 
manding officer  :  and  what  is  more,  they  appreciated 
his  services  at  something  like  their  full  value.  He 
was  immediately  appointed  inspector  of  the  coast  de- 
fenses from  the  Rhone  to  the  Var,  in  which  service, 
so  congenial  to  his  genius  for  fortification,  he  was 
engaged  till  the  month  of  April,  1794.  He  was  then 
for  several  months  with  the  army  of  Italy,  under 
General  Dumerbion  ;  in  July  sent  on  an  impor- 
tant mission  to  Genoa,  which  he  accomplished  to 
the  entire  satisfaction  of  his  superiors.  Yet,  in 
August,  he  was  placed  under  arrest,  the  ostensible 
reason  being  this  very  mission,  which  had  resulted 
to  the  glory  of  French  diplomacy,  and  was  a  gain 
to  its  strategic  knowledge,  inasmuch  as  Napoleon 
had  closely  inspected  the  fortified  posts  and  defen- 
sive points  of  Genoa  and  the  country  adjoining. 
But  such  violent  changes  had  taken  place  at  the 
center  of  government,  that  the  armies  of  France, 
howsoever  remote  on  its  frontiers,  could  not  but  feel 
their  influence.  The  events  of  the  ninth  Thermidor 
had  transpired.  Robespierre  was  overthrown  ;  the 
younger  Robespierre,  with  whom  Napoleon  had 
co-operated  in  defense  of  their  country,  was  arrested, 
sent  to  Paris,  and  guillotined.  Bonaparte  had  been 
intimate  with  this  younger  brother  of  the  great 
Robespierre,  had  furnished  him  with  the  plans  of 
defense  and  attack  which  he  had  successfully  used. 
The  natural  inference  was  that  he  shared  the  senti- 
ments also  ascribed  to  the  tyrant. 


174  JOSEPHINE. 

His  principles  were  fairly  set  forth  in  a  pamphlet 
he  had  written  July,  1Y95,  called  the  "  Souper  de 
Beaucaire"  which  was  such  a  pronounced  declara- 
tion of  Republican  principles  that  a  representative 
of  the  Convention  had  ordered  it  printed  at  the  public 
expense. 

This  had  called  the  attention  of  the  Convention  to 
the  rising  young  officer  of  artillery  in  the  South, 
and  made  him  appear  as  a  man  whose  opinions  were 
advanced  and  whose  principles  were  strictly  in  accord 
with  the  Republican  doctrine. 

It  was  a  masterly  exposition,  and  one  who  was 
not  disposed  to  favor  him,  declared,  "In  these  con- 
cise judgments  is  felt  the  decision  of  the  master  and 
of  the  man  of  war." 

But,  notwithstanding  Bonaparte's  devotion  to  the 
Republican  idea,  and  his  declaration  of  alienation 
from  the  Robespierrians,  he  was  arrested  and  thrown 
into  prison,  with  orders  to  be  reported  before  the 
tribunal  at  Paris.  Had  he  been  sent  to  Paris,  there 
is  little  doubt  that  the  guillotine  would  have  disposed 
of  this  officer  of  artillery,  whose  only  crime  had  been 
that  he  had  obeyed  the  orders  of  his  superiors,  them- 
selves the  victims  of  the  reaction  against  the  terror- 
ists. The  terrorist  deputies  had  been  superseded 
by  two  others,  Albitte  and  Salicetti,  the  latter  a 
Corsican  and  supposed  friend  of  Bonaparte.  It  was 
through  their  instrumentality,  and  conjecturally 
owing  to  the  enmity  of  Salicetti,  that  the  young 
General  of  twenty-five  was  arrested,  at  the  outset  of 
his  brilliant  career.  To  these  deputies,  Bonaparte  ad- 


JOSEPHINE.  175 

dressed  an  indignant  demand  for  release,  couched  in 
no  uncertain  language  of  defiance,  and  with  a  ring  of 
true  bravery.  He  was  not  conscious  of  having  done 
aught  else  than  his  duty,  to  his  country,  to  his 
superior  officers  ;  his  integrity  was  his  rock  of  de- 
fense. 

"  You  have  suspended  me  from  my  duties,  put  me 
under  arrest,  and  declared  me  to  be  suspected.  Thus 
I  am  disgraced  before  being  judged,  or,  indeed, 
judged  before  being  heard. 

"  Salicetti,  you  know  me  ;  and  I  ask  whether  you 
have  observed  anything  in  my  conduct  for  the  last 
five  years  which  can  afford  ground  for  suspicion  ? 
Albitte,  you  do  not  know  me ;  but  you  have  received 
proof  of  no  fact  against  me ;  you  have  not  heard 
me,  and  you  know  how  artfully  the  tongue  of 
calumny  sometimes  works.  .  .  . 

"Must  I  then  be  confounded  with  the  enemies  of 
my  country  ?  and  ought  the  patriots  inconsiderately 
to  sacrifice  a  general  who  has  not  been  useless  to  the 
republic  ?  Ought  the  representatives  to  reduce  the 
Government  to  the  necessity  of  being  unjust  and 
impolitic  ?  Hear  me  ;  destroy  the  oppression  that 
overwhelms  me,  and  restore  me  to  the  esteem  of  the 
patriots.  An  hour  after,  if  my  enemies  wish  for  my 
life,  let  them  take  it.  I  have  often  given  proofs  of 
how  little  I  value  it.  Nothing  but  the  thought  that 
I  may  yet  be  useful  to  my  country  makes  me  bear 
the  burden  of  existence  with  courage." 

This  was  not  mere  bravado,  for  Napoleon  never 
shrank  from  an  encounter  with  the  enemy  ;  he  was 


176  JOSEPHINE. 

ever  in  the  fore-front  of  battle.  This  sharp  arraign- 
ment secured  him  his  release  and  reinstatement. 

From  the  middle  of  September,  ITM,  to  the  end  of 
March,  1T95,  he  was  actively  engaged  superintend- 
ing the  preparation  of  an  expedition  for  the  recovery 
of  Corsica  from  the  English.  This  expedition  most 
disastrously  failed  of  accomplishing  its  object, 
though  through  no  fault  of  Bonaparte's,  and  he  was 
ordered  to  leave  the  south  of  France  and  report  at 
Paris,  for  transfer  to  the  army  of  the  Vendee,  in 
command  of  its  artillery.  He  arrived  in  Paris  in 
May,  and  in  June  was  ordered  to  join  the  army  of 
General  Hoche,  at  Brest ;  but  disregarded  the  order, 
and  in  August  was  attached  to  the  Committee  of 
Public  Safety,  in  an  advisory  capacity.  About  mid- 
September  he  was  taken  from  the  list  of  employed 
generals,  owing  to  his  disobedience  of  orders  to 
proceed  to  the  post  assigned  him.  This  did  not 
dismay  him,  for  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety 
had  approved  his  plan  of  the  Italian  campaign,  and 
he  was  known  as  one  of  the  most  serviceable  gen- 
erals in  the  armies  of  the  Republic. 

He  had  made  application  for  and  received  a  large 
sum  for  mileage,  on  his  journey  from  Nice  to  Paris, 
and  was  not  in  such  desperate  circumstances  as  be- 
fore. A  portion  of  this  sum  he  had  transmitted  to 
his  mother,  at  Marseilles,  where  she  was  living  with 
her  daughters  in  a  condition  far  removed  from 
affluence.  His  own  prospect  and  his  schemes  can- 
not be  better  shown  than  by  quoting  freely  from 
the  letters  he  wrote  his  brother  Joseph,  then  resid- 


JOSEPHINE.  177 

ing  at  Genoa.  .  .  .  The  first  of  these  epistles  bear- 
ing upon  this  period  of  Bonaparte's  life,  is  dated  : 

"Paris,  23d  May,  1795.  ...  I  was  yesterday 
at  the  estate  of  Rogny.  ...  If  you  wish  to  make  a 
good  bargain  it  will  be  well  for  you  to  buy  it.  Some 
8,000,000  assignats  will  purchase  it  ...  say  60,000 
francs  from  your  wife's  dowry.  This  is  my  desire 
and  my  advice.  .  .  .  Eegards  to  your  wife,  to 
Desiree,  and  all  the  family.  ..." 

This  plan  was  not  consummated,  owing  to  a  repeal 
of  the  law  by  which  such  properties  could  be  obtained. 

"June  25th.  ...  I  promptly  attended  to  your 
wife's  commission.  .  .  .  Desiree  asks  me  for  my 
portrait.  I  will  have  it  taken.  You  can  give  it  to 
her  if  she  still  desires  it ;  otherwise  keep  it  for  your- 
self." 

"  July  7th.  ...  I  have  received  no  news  from 
you  since  you  left.  Is  Genoa,  then,  the  Lethe  that 
divides  us  ?  Because  I  have  not  heard  from  Desiree 
since  she  arrived  at  that  city." 

"  July  25th.  .  .  .  I  have  been  appointed  a  general 
in  -the  Army  of  the  West.  My  illness  keeps  me 
here.  I  believe  you  have  expressed  a  desire  that  I 
should  not  speak  to  Desiree.  ...  I  have  sent  you 
letters  from  Freron  and  Barras,  which  will  recom- 
mend you  to  the  charge  d'affaires  of  the  republic." 

"July  30th.  .  .  .  The  plan  I  have  proposed  will 
surely  be  adopted.  If  I  go  to  Nice,  I  will  see  you 
and  Desiree  also.  I  will  place  Lucian  before  I  leave. 
It  is  probable  that  you  will  receive  a  position  as 
consul  in  Italy.  ..." 

12 


178  JOSEPHINE. 

"August  1.  ...  Peace  is  made  with  Spain.  .  .  . 
My  plan  for  the  offensive  is  adopted.  .  .  .  You 
never  speak  of  Eugenie.  .  .  .  My  compliments  to 
Julie  and  also  to  the  silent  one  (la  Silencieuse}." 
Eugenie  Desiree  Clary,  Joseph's  sister-in-law,  and 
then  the  object  of  Napoleon's  thoughts. 

"August  12th.  .  .  .  Fesch  seems  to  wish  to  return 
to  Corsica.  ...  It  is  all  the  same  to  him.  ...  I 
am  little  attached  to  this  life.  I  am  constantly 
surprising  myself  in  the  condition  of  a  man  on  the 
eve  of  battle,  with  a  settled  conviction  that  since 
death  is  in  the  end  so  inevitable,  it  is  folly  to  be  un- 
easy. All  this  leads  me  to  brave  death  and  destiny  ; 
and  if  this  continues,  my  friend,  in  the  end  I  shall 
no  longer  turn  when  a  carriage  passes.  .  .  .  My 
reason  is  sometimes  astonished  at  all  this  ;  but 
nevertheless  this  is  the  effect  produced  on  me  by 
the  moral  degradation  of  this  land." 

"  August  20th.  ...  I  am  at  present  attached  to 
the  Topographical  Bureau  of  the  Committee,  for 
the  direction  of  the  armies,  in  the  place  of  Carnot. 
If  I  like,  I  can  be  sent  to  Turkey  by  this  govern- 
ment, as  General  of  Artiller}^  to  organize  the 
artillery  service  of  the  Grand  Seigneur,  with  a  suite 
and  flattering  titles."  It  was  the  dearest  wish  of 
Napoleon's  heart,  at  that  moment,  to  be  sent  to 
Turkey  for  the  reorganization  of  the  artillery 
service  of  the  Turks  ;  he  had  already  sent  a  memorial 
to  the  Committee  to  this  effect ;  and  at  last  his 
wishes  seemed  about  to  be  gratified.  At  the  very 
time  of  his  dismissal  from  the  service  a  recommend- 


JOSEPHINE.  179 

ation  was  made  by  a  branch  of  the  Committee  to 
send  him  to  Turkey  with  an  extensive  retinue.  But 
events  forestalled  this,  as  his  letters  show.  ..."  I 
fear  that  they  do  not  wish  me  to  go  to  Turkey.  We 
shall  see.  Write  me  always  on  the  supposition  that 
I  am  going." 

"  August  25th.  ...  I  still  hope  for  a  consulship 
for  you  in  Naples.  ...  I  am  overwhelmed  with 
business.  ..." 

"  September  5th.  .  .  .  The  Committee  think  it 
will  be  impossible  for  me  to  leave  (for  Turkey) 
while  the  war  lasts.  I  am  to  be  reinstated  in  the 
artillery,  and  probably  will  continue  with  the  Com- 
mittee. .  .  .  If  I  remain  here  it  is  not  impossible  that  I 
may  commit  the  folly  of  marrying.  A  word  to  this 
effect  on  your  part  might  bring  it  about.  It  might 
perhaps  be  as  well  to  speak  of  it  to  Eugenie's 
brother  ;  let  me  know  the  result,  and  all  is  said  that 
need  be." 

" September  6th.  .  .  .  Do  not  fear  for  me;  my 
friends  are  all  good  men,  of  whatever  party.  Tell  me 
what  you  would  have  me  do  for  you.  Try  to  so  ar- 
range aff airs  that  my  absence  will  not  matter.  You 
know,  my  friend,  that  I  live  only  in  the  pleasure  I 
can  give  my  own.  If  my  hopes  are  seconded  by  my 
usual  good- fortune,  which  has  never  yet  abandoned 
me,  I  shall  make  you  all  happy  and  fulfill  your 
desires.  It  is  now  necessary  that  this  affair  of 
Eugenie's  be  terminated  one  way  or  the  other.  I 
shall  await  your  response  with  impatience." 

"September  26th.  .  .  .  There  are  at  this  moment 


180  JOSEPHINE. 

some  incendiary  symptoms,  signs  of  an  ebullition  ; 
much  heat  in  the  head.  It  will  all  be  over  in  a  few 
days  ;  the  moment  appears  critical  ;  but  the  genius 
of  Liberty  will  never  abandon  her  defenders." 

' '  October  3d.  Night  of  the  13th-14thVendemiaire  " 
(after  the  Eoyalist  uprising  of  the  sections).  .  .  . 
"Two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  ...  At  last,  all  is 
over.  My  first  impulse  is  to  write  you  the  news. 
The  Royalists  of  the  sections  became  each  day  more 
confident.  The  Convention  had  ordered  the  disarma- 
ment of  the  Section  Lepelletier  ;  it  had  repulsed  the 
troops.  Menou,  who  commanded,  was,  they  say,  a 
traitor.  .  .  .  The  Convention  named  Barras  as 
Commander-in-Chief  of  their  forces  ;  they  named 
me  second  in  command.  We  disposed  our  troops. 
The  enemy  advanced  to  attack  us  at  the  Tuileries. 
We  killed  many  of  them.  We  ourselves  lost  thirty 
killed  and  some  sixty  wounded.  We  have  disarmed 
the  sections,  and  all  is  tranquil  now.  My  usual 
luck  :  did  not  receive  even  a  scratch.  .  .  .  Good 
fortune  is  mine. 

' '  My  regards  to  Eugenie  and  Julie. " 

In  these  few  words  the  conqueror  of  the  sections 
announced  to  his  brother  the  most  important  action 
of  his  life  hitherto.  It  was  the  turning-point  in  his 
career  ;  his  future  was,  indeed,  assured. 

"  October  18th.  ...  I  am  now  a  General  of  Divi- 
sion ;  second  in  command  in  the  Army  of  the  Interior; 
Barras  Commander-in-Chief.  All  goes  well.  Am 
exceedingly  busy,  and  cannot  now  write  in  detail." 

"  November  9th.  ...  In  the  midst  of  my  many 


JOSEPHINE.  181 

occupations,  which  leave  me  but  little  time,  I  snatch 
a  moment  to  write  you  a  word.  Fesch,  whom  I 
have  already  instructed,  will  advise  you  of  every- 
thing of  interest.  Adieu.  Embrace  thy  wife  and 
Desiree  for  me." 

"  November  17th.  .  .  .  The  family  shall  want  for 
nothing.  I  have  received  400,000  francs  for  your 
assignats.  .  .  .  Send  me  more  particulars  regarding 
thy  wife  and  Eugenie.  .  .  .  Songis  is  now  my  aide- 
de-camp,  chief  of  brigade  ;  Junot  chief  of  battalion  ; 
Louis,  and  five  others  you  do  not  know,  are  captains, 
aides-de-camp." 

"December  31st.  ...  If  you  are  wearied  of 
Genoa,  I  do  not  see  but  you  may  come  to  Paris,  where 
I  am  established ;  table  and  carriage  at  your  disposal. 
Ozon  leaves  day  after  to-morrow,  carrying  my  pres- 
ents to  thy  wife.  If  you  do  not  wish  to  be  consul, 
come  here  and  choose  what  would  suit  you." 

"  January  llth,  1796.  .  .  .  The  multiplicity  of  my 
duties  and  the  many  important  affairs  that  engage 
my  attention,  do  not  permit  me  to  write  you  often. 
I  am  happy  here,  and  contented.  I  have  sent  the 
family  50 — 60,000  francs,  silver  and  assignats  ;  have 
no  uneasiness  (on  their  account).  Good  wishes  to 
Julie.  ..." 

"February  7th,  1796.  .  .  .  You  are  sure  to  be  ap- 
pointed consul  to  whatever  place  you  wish.  Lucien 
starts  to-morrow  for  the  Army  of  the  North.  Fesch 
is  here,  in  a  good  position.  The  family  need 
nothing."  * 

*  These  letters  are  from  the  "  Correspondence  du  Poi  Joseph," 
published  in  Paris,  1853. 


182  JOSEPHINE. 

This  is  the  last  letter  of  this  important  period,  so 
critical  in  the  lives  of  the  Bonapartes.  They  had 
crossed  the  Rubicon  ;  instead  of  poverty  and  obscu- 
rity, they  were  now,  thanks  to  the  genius  and 
the  devotion  of  the  son  and  brother,  to  bask  in  the 
sun  of  prosperity. 

In  these  letters,  it  cannot  but  be  observed,  Napo- 
leon makes  no  mention  of  his  acquaintance  with  the 
Vicomtesse  de  Beauharnais.  There  was  little  need, 
in  fact,  to  announce  all  his  doings  to  his  brother,  for 
the  latter  did  not  by  any  means  stand  to  him  in  the 
character  of  a  mentor.  Only  those  things  pertain- 
ing to  their  individual  affairs,  to  their  family  wel- 
fare, were  referred  to.  There  is,  until  the  end  of 
the  year  1T95,  a  constant  and  tender  allusion  to 
Desiree,  the  lovely  sister  of  Madame  Joseph  Bona- 
parte, and  with  whom  Napoleon  was  undoubtedly 
at  one  time  somewhat  enamored.  It  has  been 
charged  that  he  had  engaged  her  affections,  and 
that  it  was  understood  amongst  their  acquaintances 
that  they  would  some  time  be  married.  But  these 
letters  show  that  the  fault,  if  there  were  a  fault, 
was  not  Bonaparte's.  In  nearly  all  there  is  some 
message  for  the  "silent  one,"  some  reference  to  an 
affair  which  either  she  did  not  wish  to  acknowledge, 
or  Joseph  and  his  wife  did  not  like  to  encourage. 
From  other  letters,  of  hers,  in  existence,  it  would 
seem  that  she  considered  herself  the  injured  one ; 
but  it  does  not  so  appear  in  these  unstudied  effusions 
of  Bonaparte  to  his  brother.  But,  if  he  ever  held 
for  her  anything  more  than  a  transient  regard,  it 


JOSEPHINE.  183 

was  soon  effaced  by  his  first  real  passion,  that  for 
the  fair  widow,  Josephine  de  Beauharnais,  whose 
acquaintance  was  first  formed  immediately  after 
the  thirteenth  Vendemiaire. 


184  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

MARRIAGE  OF  JOSEPHINE  AND   NAPOLEON. 

THE  hour  had  come  in  which  these  two  children 
of  destiny  were  to  be  united.  Though  born  on 
islands  widely  separate  :  one  in  Corsica,  whose  rocks 
are  laved  by  the  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  ;  the 
other  in  Martinique,  cradled  in  the  warm  waves  of 
the  Atlantic  ;  the  fates,  propitious  or  otherwise,  had 
brought  them  together  in  the  mother-land  of  France. 
We  have  seen  what  were  the  circumstances  of  their 
earlier  lives.  We  have  seen  with  what  care  Fortune 
had  trained  the  woman  for  a  future  of  high  em- 
prise ;  had  fitted  her  for  companionship  with  the 
foremost  man  of  his  time.  She  met  Napoleon  at 
the  outset  of  his  great  career,  when  the  gates  were 
open  to  success,  which  he  had  so  long  and  so  vainly 
stormed.  At  last,  his  patience,  his  persistent  wait- 
ing, his  implicit  faith  in  his  destiny,  were  to  be 
rewarded.  No  longer  poor,  obscure,  a  dweller  in 
mean  lodgings,  a  student  in  garrets,  a  pleader  for 
the  recognition  which  he  knew  was  his  due  ;  he  was 
the  successful  commander  in  favor  with  the  Con- 
vention, promoted  for  his  bravery  and  rewarded  for 
his  genius  in  defense  of  principle. 

He  had  triumphed  over  every  obstacle :  he  had 


JOSEPHINE.  185 

won  victories,  not  only  over  the  Eoyalist  foes  of  the 
Convention,  but  over  his  lowlier  self.  From  this 
time  he  was  changed,  not  only  was  there  a  physical 
change,  a  transformation,  from  the  untamed, 
brusque  and  skeptical  artillery  officer  of  unknown 
origin  ;  but  there  was  a  change  in  his  moral  nature, 
as  well.  He  abandoned  the  habits  of  his  impecuni- 
ous youth  ;  he  slid  easily  into  the  position  he  had 
won  with  his  sword ;  he  more  than  filled  it ;  he 
looked  ever  beyond,  for  something  more  than  the 
present  afforded.  While  others  were  content  with 
the  temporary  rewards  of  chance  or  skill,  he  still 
schemed  and  planned ;  his  eye  fixed  upon  an  ulti- 
mate triumph  over  every  obstacle,  in  his  pathway 
to  the  throne  of  France. 

Immediate  promotion  had  rewarded  him  for  his 
daring  defense  of  the  governing  power,  and  he  was 
now  virtually  commander-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  the 
Interior.  As  such  he  had  supervision  of  all  Paris  ; 
he  carried  out  the  disarmament  and  surveillance  of 
the  sections,  and  was  occupied  with  his  gigantic 
plans  by  night  and  by  day. 

Different  stories  are  related  of  the  first  meeting  of 
the  Vicomtess  de  Beauharnais  and  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte. That  which  has  been  oftenest  told,  although 
in  recent  times  denied,  is  one  that  several  times  re- 
ceived the  endorsement  of  Napoleon  himself,  when 
a  prisoner  on  the  rock  of  St.  Helena.  Soon  after  the 
events  of  the  thirteenth  Vendemiaire  had  transpired, 
and  while  Napoleon  was  engaged  in  the  arduous  work 
of  reducing  the  chaos  of  revolution  to  a  condition  of 


186  JOSEPHINE. 

peace,  he  was  approached  by  a  beautiful  boy  about 
fourteen  years  of  age,  who  supplicated  the  return 
of  his  father's  sword.  This  parent  had  been  a 
general  at  one  time  in  the  service  of  the  republic 
and  had  perished  on  the  scaffold.  This  youth  was 
Eugene  de  Beauharnais,  since  the  Viceroy  of  Italy  ; 
thanks  to  the  favor  of  the  man  he  was  then  entreat- 
ing. Touched  by  the  nature  of  his  demand,  and  the 
ingenuous  charm  of  the  youth,  Napoleon  at  once 
gave  orders  that  the  sword  should  be  restored  to  his 
possession.  Upon  receiving  it  Eugene  burst  into 
tears  ;  and  even  the  stern  general  was  visibly  af- 
fected. A  few  days  later  the  mother  of  the  youth, 
the  widow  of  the  general  whose  sword  was  reclaimed, 
came  to  thank  Bonaparte  in  person.  Struck  with 
her  appearance,  Bonaparte  soon  returned  her  visit  ; 
a  pleasant  acquaintance  followed,  which  ripened 
into  intimacy  ;  and  their  marriage  was  not  long 
delayed.* 

It  was  a  fortunate  meeting  for  Josephine,  at  this 
juncture  of  her  affairs  ;  which,  as  we  have  seen,  were 
not  too  prosperous. 

Having  arrived  at  the  grade  of  General  of  Divi- 
sion, Napoleon  found  himself  at  last  in  a  position  to 

*  In  the  "  Memorials  of  St.  Helena,"  and  in  the  "  Recollections  of 
Dr.  O'Meara,  we  find  three  different  allusions  to  this  event. 

The  Emperor,  recalling,  in  his  captivity,  the  tenderness  that  over- 
came him  on  seeing  the  tears  of  Eugene,  said  :  "I  was  much  moved, 
and  praised  and  caressed  him.  Several  days  after  his  mother  came  to 
pay  a  visit  of  thanks.  I  was  impressed  by  her  charm  of  form  and 
still  more  by  her  esprit.  This  first  impression  deepened  each  day  we 
met  ;  and  our  marriage  was  not  slow  in  following." 


JOSEPHINE.  187 

marry,  and  it  seems  not  to  have  been  his  fault  that 
he  did  not  espouse  Mile.  Eugenie-Desiree  Clary,  his 
brother  Joseph's  sister-in-law.  There  is  little  doubt 
of  an  affection  previously  existing  between  them, 
as  shown  by  the  letters  of  both  ;  as  evidenced  in 
Bonaparte's  own  letters,  which  we  have  quoted,  to 
his  brother  Joseph.  But  Eugenie's  father,  a  rich 
merchant  of  Marseilles,  was  opposed  to  the  marriage 
of  his  daughter  with  a  poor  unknown  officer  of  the 
artillery.  Perhaps  he  thought  one  poor  Corsican  in 
the  family  was  sufficient,  for  Joseph  was  by  no 
means  a  great  success,  either  as  a  man  of  business 
or  later,  as  the  occupant  of  a  throne.  So  he  and 
his  family  set  themselves  against  it,  with  the  result 
that  the  young  people  were  obliged  to  submit  to 
their  mandate.  That  Eugenie  for  a  long  time  cher- 
ished the  image  of  Napoleon  in  her  heart  is  at- 
tested by  her  own  writings  ;  that  Bonaparte  also 
felt  an  injustice  had  been  done  this  sweet  and  attrac- 
tive girl,  is  incidentally  shown  by  his  subsequent 
favors  to  the  one  she  finally  married  :  Bernadotte, 
who  often  incurred  Napoleon's  censure  ;  but  was 
steadily  promoted  ;  until  finally  raised  to  the  throne 
of  Sweden.  This  affair  with  Eugenie  Clary,  which 
might  easily  have  been  crowned  by  marriage,  was 
probably  the  only  instance  in  which  the  affections  of 
the  great  general  were  seriously  engaged,  previous 
to  his  meeting  with  Josephine. 

As  a  youth  and  in  early  manhood,  he  may  have 
indulged  in  trivial  flirtations  ;  in  truth,  for  so  se- 
rious a  nature,  he  was  quite  susceptible  to  the  charms 


188  JOSEPHINE. 

of  the  other  sex.  But,  from  a  French  standpoint, 
he  was  comparatively  virtuous  ;  his  love  of  study 
kept  him  true  to  his  chosen  mistress,  the  Goddess  of 
Science  ;  his  poverty  was  a  barrier  between  him  and 
temptation. 

He  mingled  freely  in  the  society  of  the  Directorial 
salons,  meeting  there  many  who  were  of  service  to 
him  in  many  ways  ;  gleaning  from  th,e  men  and 
women  of  all  parties  useful  information.  He  went 
for  recreation,  also,  for  there  was  a  social  side  to 
the  young  General,  which  his  busy  life  in  camp  and 
barrack  had  not  permitted  him  time  to  develop. 
Under  the  glances  of  the  fair  Parisiennes  he  thawed 
out  sufficiently  to  be  polite,  though  none  of  them 
could  penetrate  his  habitual  reserve.  Perhaps  the 
Vicomtesse  de  Beauharnais,  who  was  always  so 
approachable  and  so  gracious,  won  him  to  her  side 
unconsciously.  She,  with  the  beautiful  Madame 
Tallien,  are  said  to  have  ruled  in  the  social  world, 
at  that  time.  Strange  stories  have  been  related  of 
these  two,  since,  conspicuous  in  the  small  world  of 
society,  they  were  also  prominent  targets  for  the 
malice  and  envy  of  their  associates.  It  was  a 
strange  and  cruel  fate  that  condemned  such  as 
Josephine,  allied  by  birth  and  marriage  with  the 
noblesse,  not  only  to  associate  with  the  murderers 
of  her  husband  and  her  friends,  but  to  adorn  their 
triumphs.  In  doing  so,  she  merely  accepted  the 
inevitable  ;  the  old  regime  was  dead  ;  the  new  was 
inchoate  ;  society  was  yet  seething  and  bubbling  in 
its  witch's  caldron.  There  were  curious  juxtapo- 


JOSEPHINE.  189 

sitions,  unaccountable  alliances.  "  One  is  little 
inclined  to  dwell  upon  the  ruling  society  of  this 
period.  It-had  neither  the  dignity  of  past  tradition, 
nor  freedom  of  intellectual  expression."  Woman 
was  as  yet  hardly  a  factor  in  the  calculations  of  the 
ruling  class  of  men.  She  had  escaped  with  what  of 
life  and  virtue  their  magnanimity  allowed  her  ;  she 
was  still  somewhat  the  sport  of  circumstance.  It 
is  small  wonder,  then,  that  she  was  evil-spoken  of  ; 
that  she  was  lightly  accused  of  being  wanton  ;  as 
lightly  regarded  the  accusation. 

With  Bonaparte's  accession  to  power  the  feelings 
of  the  Clary  family  in  respect  to  a  prospective  mar- 
riage with  their  daughter,  may  have  changed  ;  but 
the  sentiments  of  the  future  conqueror  of  Italy  and 
Austria  had  also  undergone  a  change. 

The  name  of  Desiree  was  no  longer  mentioned  by 
him  ;  since  the  middle  of  November,  in  fact,  he  was 
occupied  with  another  ;  his  heart  was  possessed  by 
the  woman  he  had  met  soon  after  the  events  of 
October  :  he  had  seen  Josephine  !  .  .  . 

We  have  seen,  from  his  letters  of  this  period  to 
his  brother,  what  was  his  condition,  his  ambition, 
previous  to  and  after  the  thirteenth  Vendemiaire  ; 
that  page  of  his  history  was  written  by  the  same 
hand  that  wielded  the  sword  of  Arcole  and  Rivoli. 
His  meeting  with  Madame  de  Beauharnais  was 
about  the  last  of  October  or  the  first  of  November, 
when  she  first  made  her  appearance  in  society. 

If  one  might  believe  certain  letters  ascribed  to 
this  epoch,  but  which  are  without  doubt  apocryphal, 


190  JOSEPHINE. 

the  widow  of  Beauharnais  had  figured  prominently 
in  some  of  the  fetes  and  reunions  which  followed 
the  overthrow  of  the  Eevolution  and  were  the  diver- 
sion and  scandal  of  Paris.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
we  fail  to  find  her  name  mentioned  in  contempo- 
raneous annals  previous  to  the  opening  of  the  year 
1796,  and  we  cannot  but  ascribe  to  malevolent  mo- 
tives the  oft-repeated  statement  that  a  woman  of 
her  heart,  her  sensibilities,  and  above  all,  her  love 
of  the  convenances,  took  part  in  the  festivities  that 
followed  so  soon  after  the  cruel  death  of  her  hus- 
band. There  is  no  probability  whatever  that  Jose- 
phine was  at  all  prominent  in  society  before  her 
meeting  with  Napoleon  ;  it  would  have  been  impos- 
sible, with  the  eyes  of  her  children  and  her  husband's 
family  upon  her,  to  have  disregarded  their  wishes 
or  the  dictates  of  her  own  sensitive  nature.  With 
the  exception  of  the  time  necessary  for  the  trans- 
action of  her  business  affairs,  as  at  Hamburg,  her 
life  was  quietly  passed  in  a  restricted  social  circle 
composed  of  the  few  friends  the  Eevolution  had 
left  to  her,  and  those  whose  acquaintance  she  had 
formed  in  prison. 

Of  this  number  were  her  aunts,  Madame  d'Aiguil- 
lon,  Madame  Recamier,  Madame  Chateau-Renard, 
and  Madame  Tallien.  To  the  latter,  as  her  savior 
from  the  horrors  of  prison,  Josephine  ever  felt 
deeply  attached,  and,  unlike  many  who  had  been 
recipients  of  her  favor,  always  displayed  towards 
her  sentiments  of  the  liveliest  friendship  and  grati- 
tude. For  Josephine  had,  as  she  has  herself  said, 


JOSEPHINE.  191 

a  horror  of  ingratitude  ;  she  would  not  dissimulate, 
even  though  her  friend  was  proscribed  by  the  Royal- 
ist leaders  of  society,  and  the  wife  of  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  revolutionary  reaction.  As  such, 
however,  Madame  Tallien  interested  her  husband 
in  her  friend,  and  secured  through  him  the  restitu- 
tion of  some  of  her  property.* 

At  the  house  of  Madame  Tallien,  doubtless,  the 
Vicomtesse  met  the  representative  Barras,  whom 
the  Ninth  Therrnidor  had  also  placed  in  the  fore- 
front with  Tallien  and  his  coadjutors.  Respecting 
the  relations  presumed  to  have  existed  at  one  time 
between  Barras  and  the  subject  of  this  history,  there 
has  not  been  adduced  any  evidence  that  a  reputable 
historian  would  admit  to  his  pages.  What  has 
been  asserted  has  been  devoid  of  proof,  and  upon 
the  mere  word  of  an  envious  and  disappointed  man. 
Aside  from  the  fact  that  Mme.  de  Beauharnais  was 
not  indebted  to  Barras  for  the  restitution  of  her 
property,  nor  for  the  appointment  (as  has  been 
alleged)  of  her  future  husband  to  the  Italian  com- 


*  "  On  1'appelait  '  Notre  Dame  de  Thermidor,'  car  elle  rendait 
service  aux  malheureux  de  tous  les  partis.  Cela  n'empecha  pas  les 
royalistes,  par  une  injure  gratuite  et  une  ingratitude  atroce,  de  la 
nommer  '  Notre-Dame  de  Septembre,'  faisant  allusion  aux  massacres 
des  2  et  3  Septembre,  1792,  pendent  lesquels  Tallien  etait  secretaire 
de  la  Commune  de  Paris.  Mme.  Tallien  e"tait  recherchee  et  courtisee 
a  la  fois  pour  elle-meme  et  pour  T  influence  de  son  mari  dans  les 
affaires  ;  elle  e"tait  I'ornement  de  toutes  les  fetes  et  Tame  de  tous  les 
plaisirs.  Elle  regnait  sans  avoir  les  embarras  du  trone  ;  son  empire 
secha  bien  des  larmes,  et  n'en  couta,  que  je  sache,  <\  personne." — 
"  Thibaudeau,  Memoires  sur  la  Convention  et  la  Directoire." 


192  JOSEPHINE. 

mand  ;  she  certainly  had  too  great  regard  for  her 
children,  and  for  the  family  with  which  she  was 
allied,  to  seriously  compromise  herself  with  a  man 
like  Barras.  Neither  was  the  one  who  aspired  at 
that  time  to  her  hand,  no  matter  how  blind  the  love 
he  felt  had  rendered  him,  likely  to  regard  without 
suspicion  any  act  that  would  indicate  undue  inti- 
macy between  the  one  he  loved  and  his  superior. 
Whatever  may  have  been  charged  to  Napoleon,  it 
has  not  been  shown  that  he  lacked  in  sensibility, 
nor  appreciation  of  honorable  motive.  He  had, 
besides,  that  confidence  in  himself,  that  conviction 
of  his  own  high  destiny,  which  forbade  the  accept- 
ance of  a  favor,  or  of  assistance  with  the  suspicion 
of  indebtedness. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Josephine  left  the 
house  she  had  occupied  in  the  Rue  de  1'Universite, 
to  reside  in  another  which  she  had  bought  of  Talma, 
the  famous  actor.  She  had  now  arrived  at  a  better 
fortune  ;  in  addition  to  what  she  had  brought  back 
from  Hamburg  she  now  received  more  regular  re- 
mittances from  her  mother,  and,  thanks  to  the  favor 
of  Tallien,  was  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  restituted 
properties.  She  was  able  to  assume  a  certain  state 
in  the  conduct  of  her  household  and  the  dispensing 
of  her  hospitality.  Her  reunions  gathered  together 
many  of  the  friends  of  former  times,  who  had  been 
dispersed  by  the  Revolution  ;  here  the  young  General 
found  himself  in  the  midst  of  the  most  agreeable 
company  of  Paris,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he 
came  to  pass  nearly  all  his  evenings  under  the 


JOSEPHINE.  193 

hospitable  roof  of  her  little  house  in  the  -Rue 
Chantereiue. 

He  was  welcome,  yet  he  was  shunned  by  some 
and  feared  ;  but  it  mattered  not  to  him,  so  the  kind 
hostess  had  a  smile  for  him.  With  his  ardent 
nature  love  made  rapid  progress  ;  he  soon  declared 
himself.  It  is  not  true  that  his  heart  was  possessed 
solely  by  ambition  to  the  exclusion  of  love  ;  he  was 
assailed  by  the  most  violent  passion  that  ever  vexed 
the  heart  of  man.  His  letters  attest  to  the  depth  and 
sincerity  of  the  passion  that  had  seized  him,  absorb- 
ing, profound,  idealizing  the  object  of  its  desires. 

In  sooth,  from  the  first  moment  that  Bonaparte 
had  beheld  the  Vicomtesse  de  Beauharnais  he  was 
fascinated — that  is  the  word — by  that  sovereign 
charm  of  manner,  that  mingled  grace  and  dignity, 
which  attracted  to  her  all  with  whom  she  came  in 
contact. 

Says  Madame  de  Remusat,  in  her  Memoires  : 
11  Bonaparte  was  young  when  he  first  met  Mme. 
de  Beauharnais,  who  was  greatly  superior  to  the 
rest  of  the  circle  in  which  she  moved,  both  by  rea- 
son of  the  name  she  bore,  and  the  elegance  of  her 
manners.  She  attached  herself  to  him  and  flat- 
tered his  pride  ;  she  procured  him  a  step  forward 
in  rank  (?) ;  he  became  accustomed  to  associate  the 
idea  of  her  influence  with  every  piece  of  good 
fortune  that  befell  him ;  and  this  superstition, 
which  she  kept  up  very  cleverly,  exerted  great 
power  over  him,  for  a  long  time.  .  .  .  When  he  mar- 
ried the  Widow  Beauharnais,  Bonaparte  believed 

'3 


194  JOSEPHINE. 

that  he  was  allying  himself  to  a  very  great  lady  ; 
his  marriage,  therefore,  was  one  conquest  the 
more.  .  .  .  Yet  he  had  some  affection  for  her,  and 
if  he  was  ever  really  stirred  by  any  emotion,  it  was 
by  her  and  for  her." 

This  is  the  admission  of  a  woman  who  was  the 
recipient  of  favors  from  both  Josephine  and  Bona- 
parte, one  who  played  an  important  though  subor- 
dinate part  in  their  imperial  court,  and  whose  envy 
was  excited  by  the  success  of  those  she  would  rather 
have  regarded  as  her  inferiors  in  station.  There  is 
little  doubt  that  at  first  the  General  was  drawn  to 
the  Vicomtesse  by  her  social  position,  the  impor- 
tance of  which  he  may  have  exaggerated  ;  though 
she  was  allied  with  two  of  the  most  honorable  fam- 
ilies of  France,  was  the  widow  of  one  of  the  most 
respected  generals  of  the  republic,  who  had  also 
held  the  office  of  president  of  the  Assembly  at  a 
most  critical  period  of  its  fortunes,  and  who  had 
been  a  welcome  guest  in  the  salons  of  the  old 
regime.  Josephine  was  undoubtedly  what  would 
then  have  been  considered  a  bon  parti,  for  the 
recently-elevated  general  of  the  Army  of  the  Inte- 
rior, who,  having  risen  to  his  present  position  by 
his  unaided  sword,  and  dependent  upon  it  for  his 
future  greatness,  might  perish  in  the  war  without 
attaining  to  any  higher  rank  than  that  he  then 
held.  On  the  other  hand,  it  could  not  have  been 
from  interest,  merely,  that  Bonaparte  sought  the 
hand  of  the  Vicomtesse  in  marriage,  for  he  neither 
knew  nor  cared  what  was  her  fortune. 


JOSEPHINE.  195 

A  widow  of  only  eighteen  months,  Josephine  had 
not  lost  all  recollection  of  her  husband's  many 
amiable  qualities  ;  of  the  promise  the  future  seemed 
to  hold  respecting  their  closer  union  ;  of  the  anguish 
and  the  affectionate  solicitude  of  those  last  moments 
of  his  life,  when,  with  his  latest  breath,  he  had 
commended  their  children  to  her  care.  The  pros- 
pect of  another  assuming  his  place  in  her  affections 
and  becoming  a  second  father  to  his  children,  was 
at  the  outset  repugnant  to  her.  Bonaparte  prom- 
ised to  love  and  protect  her  children  as  his  own  ; 
and  this  promise  no  one  can  accuse  him  of  having 
forgotten  ;  he  ever  held  their  interests  as  his  own, 
always  manifested  for  them  the  tenderest  regard, 
the  most  earnest  solicitude. 

Her  family  counseled  her  to  accept  the  General's 
proposal  :  her  aunt,  Mme.  de  Renaudin,  Fanny 
Beauharnais,  and  even  the  old  Marquis,  her  father- 
in-law.  If  reasons  for  her  acceptance  were  want- 
ing, they  were  not  long  forthcoming.  This  contest 
between  her  regard  for  Alexander's  memory  and 
his  children,  on  the  one  side ;  and  a  sincere  love, 
ardently  expressed,  on  the  other,  tore  her  heart  with 
doubts. 

A  letter  attributed  to  Josephine,  and  assigned  to 
this  period  of  her  history  has  been  published,  as- 
suming to  throw  light  upon  her  feelings  and 
motives  at  this  time.  But  this  letter  bears  every 
evidence  of  being  a  fabrication,  it  is  so  altogether 
different  from  the  chaste  style  in  which  Josephine 
was  wont  to  express  herself,  treats  with  such  levity 


196  JOSEPHINE. 

the  memory  of  her  husband  and  the  serious  atten- 
tions of  one  who  would  honor  her  with  his  hand  .  .  . 

"  My  dear  friend,  I  am  urged  to  marry  again ; 
my  friends  counsel  the  measure,  my  aunt  almost 
lays  her  injunctions  to  the  same  effect,  and  my  chil- 
dren entreat  my  compliance.  Why  are  you  not  here 
to  give  me  your  advice  at  this  important  juncture  : 
to  persuade  me  that  I  ought  to  consent  to  a  union 
which  must  put  an  end  to  the  irksomeness  of  my 
present  position  ?  .  .  .  You  have  met  General  Bona- 
parte at  my  house.  Well,  it  is  he  who  would  sup- 
ply a  father's  place  to  the  orphans  of  Alexandre  de 
Beauharnais,  and  a  husband's  to  his  widow  .  .  . 
'  Do  you  love  him  ? '  you  will  ask.  Not  exactly. 
'  You  then  dislike  him  ? '  Not  quite  so  bad  ;  but 
I  find  myself  in  that  state  of  indifference  which  is 
anything  but  agreeable,  and  which  to  devotees  in 
religion  gives  more  trouble  than  all  their  other  pec- 
cadilloes. Love,  being  a  kind  of  worship,  requires 
that  one  feel  very  differently  from  all  this  ;  and 
hence  the  need  I  have  for  your  advice,  which  might 
fix  the  irresolution  of  my  feeble  character.  .  .  . 

"  Being  now  past  the  heyday  of  youth,  can  I  hope 
long  to  preserve  that  ardor  of  attachment  which,  in 
the  General,  resembles  a  fit  of  delirium?  If,  after 
our  union,  he  should  cease  to  love  me,  will  he  not 
reproach  me  with  what  he  will  have  sacrificed  for 
my  sake  ?  Will  he  not  regret  a  more  brilliant  mar- 
riage which  he  might  have  contracted  ?  What  shall 
I  then  reply  ?  What  shall  I  do  ?  I  shall  weep.  .  .  . 


JOSEPHINE.  197 

"Excellent  resource,  you  will  say.  .  .  .  Barras 
gives  assurance  that  if  I  marry  the  General  he  will 
so  contrive  that  he  shall  be  appointed  to  the  com- 
mand of  the  Army  of  Italy.  Yesterday,  Bonaparte, 
speaking  of  this  favor,  which  already  excites  mur- 
muring among  his  fellow-soldiers,  said  to  me  : 
'  Think  they,  then,  I  have  need  of  their  protection  ? 
Egregious  mistake.  They  will  all  be  but  too  happy, 
one  day,  should  I  condescend  to  grant  them  mine. 
My  sword  is  by  my  side,  and  with  it  I  will  go 
far.'" 

In  this  strain  this  conjectural  letter  from  the  pen 
of  the  Vicomtesse  continues,  bearing  on  its  face  the 
evidence  of  its  falsity.*  Josephine  has  been  pe- 
culiarly unfortunate  in  her  female  biographers, 
writers  of  memoirs  that  depend  upon  the  interest 
attaching  to  their  illustrious  subject  for  their 
favor  with  the  public. 

Not  less  mendacious,  apparently,  are  the  alleged 
memoirs  of  Mile,  le  Normand,  attributed  to  Joseph- 
ine herself.  From  the  fabric  of  fiction  it  is  difficult 
to  extract  what  may  be  accepted  as  true  ;  but  there 
is,  doubtless,  somewhat  of  truth  in  the  body  of  the 
book  ;  though  the  animus  of  the  author  is  apparent  : 
to  strike,  through  her  heroine,  her  imperial  con- 
sort, f  Thus,  credence  is  given  to  the  statement 
that  Bonaparte  was  indebted  to  Barras  for  his  pro- 
motion ;  and  the  inference  is  given  that  it  was  as 

*  "Me"moires  de  Mine.  Ducrest." 

t  "Memoires  Historique  et  Secret  de  1'  Impe'ratrice  Josephine  ;  " 
par  Mile.  M.  A.  le  Normand  :  Paris,  1818. 


198  JOSEPHINE. 

the  reward  for  favors  already  received  from  Joseph- 
ine. Under  the  guise  of  friendship,  the  women 
strike  at  the  hand  once  stretched  forth  to  their  as- 
sistance ;  while  ostensibly  writing  these  truthful 
memoirs  of  Josephine,  they  poison  the  minds  of  their 
readers  with  their  base  suggestions  of  intrigue. 

In  the  Le-Normand  memoirs  Josephine  is  made 
to  say  :  .  .  .  "I  now  come  to  the  time  when  my 
destiny  was  to  change.  Since  the  death  of  my 
husband,  my  heart  had  dwelt  upon  those  dreadful 
events  which  had  decimated  France  and  plunged  so 
many  families  into  mourning  and  oblivion.  .  .  .  The 
image  of  my  lost  happiness  revealing  itself  to  me  as 
I  reflected  that  M.  de  Beauharnais  had  intended 
again  to  unite  himself  to  me,  seemed,  even  in  the 
midst  of  my  misfortunes,  to  betoken  a  happier 
future. 

"  Happy  to  be  free,  I  felt  a  repugnance  to  con- 
tracting another  marriage.  .  .  .  But,  being  one 
day  on  a  visit  at  Mme.  Chateau-Renard's  I  was  sit- 
ting at  a  window  looking  at  some  violets,  when 
suddenly  the  famous  Bonaparte  was  announced. 
Why,  I  was  unable  to  tell,  but  that  name  made  me 
tremble  ;  a  violent  shudder  seized  me  on  seeing  him 
approach.  I  dared,  however,  to  catch  the  attention 
of  the  man  who  had  achieved  so  easy  a  victory  over 
the  Parisians.  .  .  .  The  rest  of  the  company  looked 
at  him  in  silence.  I  was  the  first  to  speak  to  him. 
The  next  day  Barras  said  to  me :  '  I  am  about  to 
propose  to  you,  madame,  something  to  your  advan- 
tage. For  a  long  time  you  have  thought  only  of  the 


JOSEPHINE.  199 

welfare  of  others  ;  it  is  high  time  you  should  be  oc- 
cupied about  your  own  affairs.  I  want  to  make 
you  marry  the  little  Bonaparte,  whom  I  have  just 
got  appointed  general-in-chief,  and  to  whom  I  have 
given  the  business  of  conquering  Italy.'  .  .  . 

"  I  was  surprised  at  the  proposal ;  it  by  no  means 
met  my  approbation.  '  Do  you  really  think  of 
that?'  said  I  to  the  Director;  'your  project  is  in- 
conceivable.' .  .  .  We  met  several  times  at  Tal- 
lien's  ;  the  more  I  sought  to  avoid  his  presence,  the 
more  he  seemed  to  multiply  himself  in  my 
way.  .  .  .  But  I  consented,  at  length,  to  marry 
the  hero  who  was  to  conquer  so  many  nations.  ...  I 
myself  sent  to  Bonaparte  the  letter  of  the  Directory, 
offering  him  the  command  of  the  Army  of  Italy.  .  .  . 
He  had  but  a  few  days  to  make  his  preparations  for 
crossing  the  Alps  ;  and  two  days  before  his  depart- 
ure he  received  the  title  of  my  husband.  .  .  .  Bon- 
aparte left  me  an  honorable  title,  and  a  delightful 
abode  at  his  residence,  where  I  saw  constantly  the 
best  of  company,  where  I  was  visited  by  deputies 
and  generals." 

These  memoires  were  published  four  years  after 
the  death  of  Josephine  and  while  Napoleon  was  a 
prisoner  at  St.  Helena  ;  his  enemies  were  in  power 
again  ;  this  book  was  intended  as  a  propitiatory 
offering  to  royalty,  by  an  unprincipled  and  unscrup- 
ulous woman,  Mile.  Le-Normand,  who  was  a  pro- 
fessional fortune-teller  of  Paris. 

We  turn  with  relief  to  the  authentic  narrative  of 


200  JOSEPHINE. 

Josephine's  life  which  has  been  taken  as  the  basis  of 
this  history,  published  some  forty  years  after  her 
death,  and  written  by  one  who  made  a  careful  ex- 
amination of  all  available  material,  in  France  and 
in  the  island  of  her  birth.* 

Josephine  was  impressed  by  the  ardor  of  her 
lover's  suit,  by  his  ingenuous  affection  ;  but  she 
doubted  her  ability,  being  no  longer  in  her  premiere 
jeunesse,  to  hold  in  thrall  the  genius  of  one  so  aspir- 
ing, and  at  the  same  time  so  much  younger  than 
herself.  Her  first  marriage  had  been  at  the  outset 
so  unhappy,  she  feared  to  engage  in  another  con- 
tract that  should  fetter  the  freedom  she  then  enjoyed, 
and  which,  though  it  exposed  her  to  malicious  at- 
tacks, yet  had  its  manifold  attractions.  But  in  the 
end,  she  submitted,  drawn  in  spite  of  herself  by  the 
magnetic,  dominant  personality  of  the  young  and 
ardent  Napoleon.  Once  having  yielded  her  consent, 
she  could  not  but  recall,  and  impart  to  her  affianced, 
the  prediction  of  the  Martinique  prophetess,  which 
seemed  to  confirm  her  impression  that  she  was  in- 
deed to  link  her  fortunes  with  the  man  of  destiny. 
Not  all  her  friends  believed  that  her  prospective 
union  was  to  be  a  betterment  of  her  fortunes  ;  many, 
in  fact,  averring  that  the  advantage  lay  with  the 
General  of  the  Convention. 

Having  accepted  the  General's  offer,  Madame  de 
Beauharnais  charged  her  friend,  Mme.  Campan, 
with  the  disagreeable  duty  of  breaking  the  news  to 

*  "  Histoire  de  1'  Impe'ratrice  Josephine,"  par  Joseph  Aubenas  : 
Paris,  1857. 


EUGENIE  D^SIREE  CLARY. 


JOSEPHINE.  201 

her  children  ;  for  she  shrank  from  acquainting  them 
with  the  approaching  marriage,  knowing  full  well 
their  reverence  for  their  father's  memory  and  name. 
Eugene  was  then  at  college,  and  Hortense  was  at 
the  famous  school  kept  by  Madame  Campan,  which 
she  had  entered  in  August  or  September,  1795.* 

The  union  was  consummated,  after  the  manner  of 
those  revolutionary  times,  by  an  appearance  before 
a  civil  magistrate,  on  the  9th  of  March,  1796,  in 
the  mayoralty  of  the  second  arrondissement  of  Paris, 
in  which  Mme.  de  Beauharnais  then  resided. 

Their  brief  honeymoon  was  passed  in  the  little 
house,  Rue  Chantereine.  Twelve  days  later,  Bona- 
parte was  compelled  to  leave  his  bride,  his  new-found 
happiness,  the  home  to  which  he  had  at  last  attained, 
and  on  the  21st  of  March  was  on  his  way  to  win  the 
imperishable  glory  which  awaited  him  on  the  battle- 
fields of  Italy. 

*  "  Correspondance  de  Mme.  Campan  avec  la  Seine  Hortense"  .  .  . 
"Six  mois  apres  (!' entree  d'Hortense  a  Saint-Germain),  Mme. 
de  Beauharnais  vint  me  faire  partde  son  mariage  avec  un  gentilhomme 
Corse,  e"leve  de  1'ecole  militaire  et  general.  Je  fus  chargee  d'ap- 
prendre  cette  nouvelle  a  sa  fille,  qui  s'affligea  longtemps  de  voir  sa 
mere  changer  de  nom,"  etc. 


202  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  ITALIAN   CAMPAIGN. 

ONE  object  of  Bonaparte's  desires  had  been  attained, 
one  ambition  gratified,  but  he  had  not  yet  scaled  the 
heights  of  fame.  In  the  marriage-act  Napoleon 
is  indicated  as  General-in-Chief  of  the  Army  of 
the  Interior,  although  he  had  been  nominated  to 
the  command  of  the  Army  of  Italy  two  weeks  be- 
fore, or  on  the  22d  of  February.  His  commission 
may  not  have  been  signed,  or  he  may  not  have 
chosen  to  assume  the  title  in  advance  of  taking  the 
command.  His  friends  would  ascribe  such  an  act 
to  modesty,  his  enemies  to  policy ;  but  whatever 
the  reason,  such  is  the  fact.  As  witnesses  to  the 
marriage  there  were,  on  the  part  of  Napoleon,  the 
representative  Barras,  as  member  of  the  Directory 
and  chief  of  the  Vendemiaire,  and  Lemarrois,  Bona- 
parte's aide-de-camp.  Several  officers  served  him 
in  this  capacity,  at  that  time  ;  but  he  had  given  the 
preference  to  Lemarrois,  because,  it  is  thought,  he 
had  been  indirectly  instrumental  in  promoting  this 
marriage,  by  introducing  to  the  General  the  young 
Eugene,  on  the  occasion  of  his  request  for  his  father's 
sword.  Mme.  de  Beauharnais  had,  as  witnesses, 
Tallien,  to  whom  and  whose  wife  she  was  so  deeply 


JOSEPHINE.  203 

indebted  ;  and  a  certain  lawyer,  Calmelet,  an  old 
friend  and  solicitor  of  the  Beauharnais. 

The  names  of  the  contracting  parties  were  re- 
corded as  "  Napolione  Bonaparte,  and  Marie- Joseph- 
Eose  de  Tascher."  The  residence  of  the  General  is 
given  as  Eue  d' Anton,  which  was  then,  doubtless, 
his  private  domicile  ;  though  as  military  comman- 
dant his  official  residence  was  in  the  Eue  des 
Capucins. 

Josephine's  domicile  is  entered  as  at  Eue  Chan- 
tereine,  in  the  little  house  from  which,  four  years 
later,  Bonaparte  emerged  as  the  genius  of  the  18th 
Brumaire,  and  the  dictator  of  all  France. 

One  error  in  the  marriage-act  cannot  be  over- 
looked, although  it  may  be  attributed  to  gallantry 
on  the  part  of  Napoleon,  or  negligence  of  the 
civil  officer,  as  to  their  respective  ages.  The 
age  of  Bonaparte  is  entered  as  twenty-eight,  when 
he  was  but  twenty-six,  seven  months ;  that  of 
Josephine  as  the  same,  when  she  was  really  thirty- 
two  and  more ;  in  other  words,  the  general  was 
made  two  years  older  and  his  wife  four  years 
younger,  than  their  certificates  of  birth  would 
warrant.  Both  may  have  been  sensitive  as  to  the 
discrepancy  in  their  ages,  and  doubtless  both  connived 
at  this  innocent  deception,  which  was  at  most  a  sop 
to  their  vanity.  This  fiction  is  said  to  have  been 
perpetuated  so  late  as  1814,  in  the  Imperial  Almanac 
of  that  date  ;  but  no  one  was  deceived  thereby,  and 
eventually  the  truth  was  published. 

Another  irregularity  in  the  "  act  "  was  the  per- 


204  JOSEPHINE. 

mitting  of  the  aide-de-camp,  Lemarrois,  to  sign  as 
witness,  when  he  had  not  arrived  at  the  legal  age. 
Either  of  these  irregularities,  it  has  been  declared, 
would  have  invalidated  the  contract,  and  have  made 
easier  for  Napoleon  the  accomplishment  of  his 
subsequent  plans  for  divorce,  had  he  been  aware  of 
the  facts.  But,  fortunately,  nothing  untoward 
occurred  to  mar  their  brief  day  of  happiness,  before 
the  departure  of  the  groom  for  his  distant  fields  of 
glory. 

Before  dismissing  the  events  of  this  most  impor- 
tant period  from  these  pages,  let  us  recur  to  that 
appointment  of  commander-in-chief,  which,  it  has 
been  alleged,  Bonaparte  received  through  the  favor 
in  which  Josephine  had  been  held  by  Barras.  This 
has  been  effectually  disproven  by  reference  to  the 
records  of  the  time,  and  the  denial  of  the  one  man 
who  was  then  at  the  head  of  military  affairs  in  the 
Directory.  It  was  to  that  great  military  genius  of 
the  Directory,  the  upright,  unimpeachable  Carnot, 
and  not  to  Barras,  that  Bonaparte  owed  this  rec- 
ognition of  his  merit.  This  statement  was  made 
by  Carnot,  during  his  exile  in  Switzerland,  and  is  re- 
affirmed in  his  memoirs  *  :  .  .  .  "  It  is  not  true  that 
Barras  proposed  Bonaparte  for  the  Italian  campaign  ; 
it  was  I,  myself.  If  he  had  failed,  upon  my 
shoulders  would  have  been  foisted  the  responsibility  ; 
but  he  succeeded,  and  Barras  claims  the  credit.  .  .  ." 
There  was  nothing  unusual  in  the  appointment  :  the 

*  "  Memoir 'es  Historiques  et  Militaires  sur  Carnot "  :  Paris,  1824. 


JOSEPHINE.  205 

young  General  was  in  constant  communication  with 
the  Directory,  after  the  13th  Vendemiaire  ;  for  six 
months  he  was  laboring  indefatigably  to  reorganize 
the  Army  of  the  Interior  ;  his  plans  for  the  Italian 
campaign  had  been  examined  and  adopted ; — who 
more  likely  than  he,  their  author,  to  succeed  in 
carrying  them  out  ?  In  truth,  who  else  than  he, 
what  genius  less  than  his,  could  bring  about  their 
accomplishment  ? 

In  short,  a  concensus  of  contemporary  opinion  gives 
a  verdict  opposed  to  the  claims  of  Barras  as  the  dis- 
coverer of  this  great  military  adept  and  the  pro- 
moter of  his  fortunes.  He  was  naturally  jealous 
that  one  nominally  second  in  command  should  have 
risen  so  far  above  him  :  envy  and  malice  supplied 
the  weapons.  Josephine  became  the  unconscious 
instrument  for  attacking  and  wounding  this  giant 
whom  he  could  not  overthrow.  Bourrienne,  who 
later  became  the  private  secretary  of  Napoleon,  and 
has  written  his  memoirs,  which  are  in  the  main  re- 
liable, says  of  the  marriage  :  .  .  .  "  One  day,  at 
breakfast,  Bonaparte  called  my  attention  to  a  young 
lady  who  sat  opposite  to  him,  and  asked  what  I 
thought  of  her.  The  way  in  which  I  answered  his 
question  seemed  to  give  him  much  pleasure.  He 
then  talked  a  great  deal  to  me  about  her,  her  family, 
and  her  amiable  qualities ;  he  told  me  that  he 
should  probably  marry  her,  as  he  was  convinced 
that  the  union  would  make  him  happy.  I  also 
gathered  from  his  conversation  that  his  marriage 
with  the  young  widow  would  probably  assist  him 


206  JOSEPHINE. 

in  gaining  the  objects  of  his  ambition.  His  con- 
stantly increasing  influence  with  her  had  already 
brought  him  into  contact  with  the  most  influential 
persons  of  that  epoch.  .  .  .  He  remained  in  Paris 
only  ten  days  after  his  marriage,  which  took  place 
on  the  9th  of  March,  1796.  It  was  a  union  in  which 
great  harmony  prevailed,  notwithstanding  occa- 
sional slight  disagreements.  Bonaparte  never,  to 
my  knowledge,  caused  annoyance  to  his  wife."* 

"Madame  Bonaparte  possessed  personal  graces 
and  many  good  qualities.  I  am  convinced  that  all 
who  were  acquainted  with  her  must  have  felt  bound 
to  speak  well  of  her  ;  to  few,  indeed,  did  she  ever 
give  cause  for  complaint.  In  the  time  of  her  great 
power  she  did  not  lose  any  of  her  friends,  because 
she  forgot  none  of  them.  Benevolence  was  natural 
to  her,  but  she  was  not  always  prudent  in  its  exer- 
cise. Hence  her  protection  was  often  extended  to 
persons  who  did  not  deserve  it.  Her  taste  for 
splendor  and  expense  was  excessive,  and  this  proiie- 
ness  for  luxury  became  a  habit  which  seemed 
constantly  indulged  without  any  motive.  What 
scenes  have  I  not  witnessed  when  the  moment  for 
paying  the  tradesmen's  bills  arrived.  .  .  She  always 
kept  back  from  Napoleon  one-half  their  claims, 
and  the  discovery  of  this  exposed  her  to  new  re- 
proaches. How  many  tears  did  she  shed  which  might 
easily  have  been  spared."  .  .  . 

Meneval,     Bourrienne's     successor    as    private 

*  "  Memoirs  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,"  by  Louis  Antome  Fauvelet 
de  Bourrienne,  his  Private  Secretary. 


JOSEPHINE.  207 

secretary  to  Bonaparte,  confirms  this  testimony  to 
the  gentleness  and  grace  of  Josephine  :  .  .  .  "  She 
had  the  soft  abandonment,  the  supple  and  elegant 
movements,  and  the  graceful  carelessness  of  the 
Creoles.  Her  temper  was  always  the  same.  She 
was  gentle  and  kind,  affable  and  indulgent  with 
every  one,  knowing  no  difference  with  persons. 
She  had  neither  a  superior  mind,  nor  much  learn- 
ing ;  but  her  exquisite  politeness,  her  full  acquaint- 
ance with  society,  with  the  Court,  and  with  their 
innocent  artifices,  made  her  always  know  at  need 
the  best  thing  to  say  or  to  do."  * 

The  women  who  have  left  on  record  their  impres- 
sions, either  in  contemporary  letters  or  in  memoirs 


*  Said  the  observant  Talleyrand,  when  asked  about  her  :  .  .  . 
"  Avait-elle  de  Vesprit  f  "  Elle  s'en  passait  superieurement  6ien." 
Says  Madame  de  Remusat:  "  Without  being  precisely  pretty,  she  pos- 
sessed many  personal  charms  :  her  features  were  delicate,  her  ex- 
pression was  sweet  ;  her  mouth  was  very  small,  and  concealed  her 
bad  teeth  ;  her  complexion  was  rather  dark,  but  with  artificial  aids 
she  remedied  that  defect.  Her  figure  was  perfect  ;  her  limbs  flex- 
ible and  delicate,  her  movements  easy  and  elegant.  La-Fontaine's 
lines  could  never  have  been  more  fitly  applied  than  to  her — '  Et  la 
grace,  plus  belle  encore  que  la  beaute!  .  .  .  She  dressed  with  perfect 
taste,  enhancing  the  elegance  of  whatever  she  wore.  .  .  .  To  all 
her  other  qualities  she  added  extreme  kindness  of  heart,  a  remarkably 
even  temper,  and  great  readiness  to  forget  a  wrong  that  had  been  done 
her."  And  Miot  de  Melito,  a  partisan  of  Joseph  Bonaparte's,  who 
was  not  too  well  disposed  towards  Josephine:  .  .  .  "No  woman  has 
united  so  much  kindness  to  so  much  of  natural  grace,  or  has  done 
more  good  with  more  pleasure  than  she  did.  She  honored  me  with 
her  friendship,  and  the  remembrance  of  the  benevolence  she  has 
shown  me,  to  the  last  moment  of  her  too  short  existence,  will  never 
be  effaced  from  my  heart." 


208  JOSEPHINE. 

published  after  their  demise,  have  been  less  just  to 
one  of  their  own  sex — as  is  most  natural — than  the 
men.  But  even  those  who  were  devoured  with 
envy  at  her  high  position,  who  were  obliged  to 
accept  unwillingly  subordinate  stations  in  her  court, 
have  testified  to  her  unfailing  goodness,  sweetness 
of  disposition,  and  her  bounty. 

We  are  not  aware  of  any  existing  portrait  of 
Josephine,  of  any  bust  or  drawing,  of  the  period 
preceding  her  second  marriage,  but  this  portrait- 
mosaic  from  the  hands  of  her  contemporaries,  suf- 
ficiently limns  her  features  and  her  characteristics. 
Her  eyes  were  deep  blue,  her  hair  brown,  not  over 
luxuriant,  her  complexion  dark,  her  mouth  small, 
the  lips  parted  in  a  smile  of  exceeding  sweetness, 
the  nose  with  arched  and  sensitive  nostrils,  and  in- 
clined to  retrousse.  She  was  not  a  beauty,  although 
she  had  more  than  fulfilled  the  promise  of  her  youth, 
as  we  have  seen  her  at  Martinique,  and  on  her 
arrival  in  France.  She  could  not  compare  in  re- 
spect to  mere  personal  attractions  with  Mme.  Tallien, 
nor  with  Napoleon's  sister,  Pauline,  later  a  reign- 
ing belle  ;  but  Josephine  completely  realized  one's 
ideal  of  an  attractive,  fascinating  woman,  with 
an  air  of  distinction  about  her  that  impressed  all 
who  met  her,  particularly  Bonaparte,  on  his  first 
acquaintance,  who  had  from  birth  a  penchant  to- 
wards the  aristocracy. 

Such  was  Josephine  at  the  period  when,  the  bride 
of  Napoleon,  she  was  left  alone  in  Paris  to  await 
the  tidings  from  the  seat  of  war.  And  they  came, 


209 

hot  and  fast,  one  letter  sometimes  overtaking  the 
other  on  the  road  ;  letters  full  of  fire  and  passion, 
filled  with  love,  with  thoughts  of  her,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  every  other  woman,  of  almost  every  other 
theme.  Leaving  Paris  on  the  twenty-first  of  March, 
twenty  days  passed  by  before  the  Directory  received 
any  news  of  their  newly-appointed  commander  of 
the  armies  of  Italy. 

But  missives  to  his  wife  came  by  every  post.  He 
was  going  forth  to  fight,  only  that  he  might  win 
her  approval ;  to  make  peace,  only  that  he  might 
the  sooner  have  her  with  him.  Every  mile  of  the 
road  to  Italy  that  he  traversed  was  filled  with  his 
laments ;  the  country  was  hateful  to  him,  because 
it  stretched,  continually  broadening,  between  him  and 
his  love.  "  By  what  art  "  (he  wrote  from  the  scene 
of  his  first  triumphs)  "  have  you  learned  to  captivate 
all  my  faculties,  to  concentrate  in  yourself  my  whole 
being  ?  To  live  for  Josephine.  .  .  .  That  is  the 
story  of  my  life.  I  am  dying  to  join  you.  Fool  ! 
...  I  don't  see  that  I  am  only  going  farther  away. 
How  many  lands  and  countries  separate  us  !  How 
long  before  you  will  read  these  words,  which  so 
feebly  express  the  emotions  of  the  heart  over  which 
you  reign  ! "  "  To  deny  Bonaparte's  passionate  love 
for  Josephine  in  1796,"  says  one  who  met  them  inti- 
mately, "  would  be  to  deny  the  evidence."  Even  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  by  no  means  an  admirer  of  Napoleon, 
grudgingly  admits  the  genuineness  of  this  passion  : 
.  .  .  "A  part  of  his  correspondence  with  his  bride 
has  been  preserved,  and  gives  a  curious  picture  of  a 


210  JOSEPHINE. 

temperament  as  fiery  in  love  as  in  war.  The  lan- 
guage of  the  conqueror  who  was  disposing  states  at 
his  pleasure,  and  defeating  the  most  celebrated 
commanders  of  his  time,  is  that  of  an  Arcadian 
shepherd."  And  again,  Mme.  de  Remusat  :  .  .  . 
"  1  have  seen  letters  from  Napoleon  to  Mme.  Bona- 
parte, written  at  the  time  of  the  first  Italian  cam- 
paign, which  are  very  singular.  .  .  .  The  writ- 
ing is  almost  illegible  ;  they  are  ill-spelt  ;  the  style 
is  strange  and  confused  But,  there  is  in  them  such 
a  tone  of  passionate  feeling  ;  the  expression  is  so 
animated,  and  at  the  same  time  so  poetical ;  they 
breathe  a  love  so  different  from  mere  amours,  that 
there  is  no  woman  who  would  not  have  prized  such 
letters.  .  .  .  They  form  a  striking  contrast  with 
the  graceful,  elegant  and  measured  style  of  those 
of  his  wife." 

"At  this  time,"  says  another,  "Bonaparte  was 
much  more  in  love  with  his  wife  than  she 'was  with 
him.  He  adored  her ;  she  was  but  moderately 
touched  by  his  fiery  transports." 

This,  we  are  constrained  to  believe,  was  true  at 
the  beginning  of  their  marital  relations.  Napoleon 
had  won  her  perforce,  as  it  were  ;  had  compelled 
her  to  accept  his  love,  his  devotion,  his  homage, 
even.  She  was  bewildered  by  a  passion  which  she 
did  not  then  understand,  which  swept  her  away  in 
an  impetuous  flood,  which  brought  to  her  feet  the 
offerings  of  a  heart  unsullied,  the  treasures  of  a 
world  new-conquered. 

These  love-letters  of  the  great  General  have  been 


JOSEPHINE.  211 

preserved  ;  *  they  attest  the  most  ardent  passion, 
the  tenderest  devotion.  .  .  .  One  of  the  first  depicts 
his  despair  in  glowing  colors  :  .  .  .  "  Every  moment 
takes  me  farther  away  from  you,  and  every  moment 
I  feel  less  able  to  endure  the  separation.  You  are 
ever  in  my  thoughts  ;  my  fancy  tires  itself  in  trying 
to  imagine  your  present  occupation.  If  I  picture  you 
sad,  my  heart  is  wrung  and  my  grief  increased.  If 
happy  and  merry  with  your  friends,  I  blame  you 
for  so  soon  forgetting  the  three  days'  painful  sepa- 
ration ;  in  that  case  you  are  frivolous,  not  capable 
of  deep  feeling.  So,  as  you  see,  I  am  hard  to 
please.  .  .  .  When  I  am  asked  if  I  have  rested  well, 
I  cannot  answer  until  a  messenger  brings  me  word 
that  you  have  rested  well.  The  illness  or  anger  of 
men  affect  me  only  so  far  as  I  imagine  they  may 
have  affected  you." 

And  later  in  the  year,  after  successive  victories 
have  perched  upon  his  banners:  .  .  .  "  At  length, 
my  adored  Josephine,  I  live  again.  Death  is  no 
longer  before  me,  and  glory  and  honor  are  still  in 
my  breast.  The  enemy  is  beaten  at  Arcola.  To- 
morrow we  will  repair  the  blunder  of  Vaubois,  who 
abandoned  Rivoli.  In  eight  days  Mantua  will  be 
ours,  and  then  thy  husband  will  fold  thee  in  his 
arms,  and  give  thee  a  thousand  proofs  of  his  ardent 
affection.  I  shall  proceed  to  Milan  as  soon  as  I  can  : 
I  am  a  little  fatigued.  I  have  received  letters  from 
Hortense  and  Eugene.  I  am  delighted  with  the 

*  "  Correspondance  Inedite,  Offlcielle  et  Confidentielle,  de  Napo- 
leon Bonaparte  :  "  Paris,  1819. 


212  JOSEPHINE. 

children.  I  will  send  you  their  letters  as  soon  as  1 
am  joined  by  my  household,  which  is  now  somewhat 
dispersed.  .  .  .  We  have  made  five  thousand  pris- 
oners and  killed  at  least  six  thousand  of  the  enemy. 
Adieu,  my  adorable  one.  Think  of  me  often.  When 
you  cease  to  love  your  Achilles  ;  when  your  heart 
grows  cool  towards  him,  you  will  be  very  cruel,  very 
unjust.  But  I  am  sure  you  will  always  continue 
my  faithful  mistress,  as  I  shall  ever  remain  your 
fond  lover.  Death  alone  can  break  the  union  which 
sympathy,  love  and  sentiment  have  formed.  Let 
me  have  news  of  your  health.  ...  A  thousand  and 
a  thousand  kisses." 

But,  though  drawn  to  Paris  by  his  affections, 
frenzied  by  the  recollection  of  his  bride  of  less  than 
two  weeks  left  behind  him,  his  ardor  was  not 
quenched,  rather  stimulated,  at  the  thought  of  what 
was  before  him.  He  reached  his  command,  finding 
the  army  disorganized,  spiritless,  without  shoes, 
almost  destitute  of  provisions.  He  at  once  set  about 
its  reorganization,  in  twenty  days  had  it  in  condition 
to  march  ;  within  three  weeks  from  leaving  Paris 
had  gained  his  first  victory,  at  Montenotte.  The 
letters  he  wrote  almost  daily  to  his  wife  were  full  of 
love,  of  passionate  devotion  :  but  not  a  word  about 
his  exploits,  accomplished  or  in  contemplation.  The 
processes  of  his  mind  were  conducted  in  secret :  no 
one  but  himself  was  cognizant  of  his  plans,  his  pro- 
jected movements.  The  lover  and  the  militarist  are 
strangely  mingled  in  the  same  individual.  In  all 
his  ravings,  in  all  his  tender  epistles,  he  confine? 


JOSEPHINE.  213 

himself  to  the  expression  of  his  passion.  His  duty 
to  mistress  and  to  country  were  things  apart.  He 
would  not  fail  one  or  the  other  ;  he  was  equally 
devoted  to  both  ;  but  neither  was  entitled  to  his 
whole  heart.  And  yet  to  each  he  gave  the  energies, 
the  attention,  of  his  entire  being ;  there  were  two 
men  combined  in  that  one  entity  :  the  lover,  ab- 
sorbed in  his  passion  ;  the  warrior,  permeated  by  the 
love  of  glory  and  country.  His  nature  fed  upon  the 
material  at  hand  ;  he  loved  with  all  the  intensity  of 
his  ardent  nature  ;  he  fought  with  all  the  energy  of 
one  inspired.  "  Napoleon  found  the  Eepublic 
abhorrent  of  her  guillotine,  loving  her  army,  .  .  . 
risen  in  mad  wrath  to  deliver  her  from  slavery, 
from  invasion,  all  aroused,  enraged,  with  intense 
patriotism,  impatiently  awaiting  a  leader " — who 
came.  .  .  .  All  the  world  loves  a  lover — and  a  leader. 
In  Napoleon,  his  soldiers  found  both  combined. 
Aroused  as  he  was,  by  love,  by  thirst  for  glory,  his 
magnetic  presence  drew  them  ;  his  dominant  person- 
ality impelled  them.  He  took  what  Republican 
France  had  prepared,  what  she  had  assembled, 
took  it,  rough  and  inchoate  as  it  was,  moulded  it, 
beat  it  into  shape,  and  hurled  it  on  to  victory. 

Who  was  this  newly-risen  star,  this  young  gen- 
eral, sent  out  to  supersede  old  and  tried  veterans, 
who  had  been  unable  to  make  headway  against 
the  Austrian  armies, — at  least,  of  late  :  Kellerman, 
Augereau,  Massena  ?  The  astonished  soldiers  asked 
this  question  but  once  ;  his  own  deeds  answered  it : 
he  was  their  leader,  their  born  commander  ;  they 


214:  JOSEPHINE. 

followed  him  gladly,  and  ever  to  new  and  newer 
triumph.  A  month  of  silence,  during  which  no 
tidings  reached  the  impatient  Directory  from  their 
general.  But  then  there  burst  upon  their  aston- 
ished ears,  like  a  thunder-clap,  the  victory  of  Mon- 
tenotte,  gained  on  the  twelfth  of  April.  Scarcely 
had  this  message  awakened  and  electrified  the  capital, 
than  there  came  another,  the  victory  of  Millesimo. 
next  of  Dego,  then  of  Mondovi.  Four  victories  in 
the  space  of  ten  days ;  the  King  of  Sardinia  com- 
pelled to  abandon  his  Austrian  allies  and  to  place 
all  his  fortresses  at  the  orders  of  the  French  com- 
mander. Of  the  first  victory,  Mme.  Bonaparte 
received  the  information,  in  common  with  all  Paris, 
from  the  columns  of  the  Moniteur.  She  had  retired 
with  the  love-letters  of  her  hero  under  her  pillow, 
never  dreaming  that  she  would  awake,  next  morn- 
ing, and  find  his  name  in  every  mouth.  During 
the  month  succeeding  the  reception  of  this  news,  or 
from  the  twentieth  of  April  to  the  twentieth  of  May, 
Josephine  was  the  recipient  of  attentions  that  would 
have  gladdened  the  heart  of  any  woman.  She  was 
the  most  famous  woman  then  in  France  ;  the  wife 
of  the  victorious  general,  the  best-beloved  of  the 
most  highly-honored  man  of  France. 

While  the  slow-moving  couriers  were  carrying  the 
tidings  to  Paris,  Napoleon  was  pushing  on  ;  the 
tenth  of  May  he  forced  the  passage  of  the  Adda, 
which  gave  him  Lombardy,  and  on  the  fifteenth  he 
entered  Milan.  His  plan  of  campaign  was  vindi- 
cated ;  he  had  fallen  upon  the  enemy  from  the  rear  ; 


JOSEPHINE.  215 

he  had  penetrated  to  the  heart  of  the  disputed  coun- 
try, had  divided  the  forces  of  the  Austrians  and  the 
Piedmontese.  Modena,  Naples,  Parma,  the  Pope, 
all  hastened  to  conclude  a  peace  or  beg  an  armistice. 
In  the  Moniteur  of  the  25th  of  April  appeared  the 
first  official  report  from  headquarters,  rendered  with 
a  dignified  simplicity  that  delighted  the  Directory. 
Two  days  after  a  second  despatch  announced  an- 
other victory,  and  the  next  day  another.  Impelled 
by  the  popular  patriotism,  the  Directory  addressed 
to  their  young  general  its  felicitations,  in  the  name 
of  the  nation.  Carnot,*  proud  of  his  protege  and 
delighted  that  he  had  been  the  means  of  bestowing 
upon  France  this  new  leader,  wrote  to  Bonaparte  : 
"  The  eyes  of  all  France,  of  all  Europe,  are  fixed  upon 
you  and  your  army."  This  was  indeed  true,  for  of 
the  other  armies  of  France  :  of  the  North,  of  the 

*  Carnot,  L.  N.  M.,  French  statesman  and  tactician;  born  1753  ; 
in  1791  a  deputy  ;  voted  for  the  execution  of  Louis  XVIth;  1793,  head 
of  Committee  of  Public  Safety ;  organizer  of  victory,  under  whose  guid- 
ance the  fourteen  armies  created  by  the  rising  of  the  nation  e*n  masse, 
repelled  the  Austrians  and  Prussians,  and  quelled  the  Vendean  insur- 
rection. He  was  so  completely  absorbed  in  the  defense  of  his  country, 
that  he  "  was  hardly  cognizant  of  the  atrocities  going  on  around  him ;" 
1795,  took  his  seat  as  one  of  the  500  ;  1796,  planned  the  campaign  in 
Italy,  which  Bonaparte  afterwards  changed  to  his  own,  taking  the 
material  at  hand.  After  the  coup  d'etat  of  the  18th  Fructidor,  con- 
demned to  transportation,  but  escaped  to  Switzerland,  returning  after 
the  18th  Brumaire ;  was  appointed  minister  of  war  in  1800,  but  was  un- 
able to  agree  with  Bonaparte,  and  resigned.  In  Jan.,  1814,  he  rallied 
to  the  assistance  of  Bonaparte,  who  is  said  to  have  remarked,"  I  have 
known  you  too  late."  After  the  rout  of  Waterloo,  "  he  alone  retained 
his  self-possession."  Died  1823. 

President  Carnot,  assassinated  in  1894,  was  his  grandson. 


216  JOSEPHINE. 

Sambre,  of  the  Rhine,  of  the  Alps,  not  one  but  was 
in  a  state  of  inactivity.  The  joy  and  gratitude  of 
the  people  reached  its  climax  when  there  arrived 
from  the  seat  of  war  the  intrepid  Junot,  Bonaparte's 
aide-de-camp,  with  twenty-two  flags  captured  in 
Piedmont.  A  great  festival  was  arranged  which 
took  place  in  the  Luxembourg,  and  at  which  the 
wife  of  the  victorious  general  was  the  center  of  at- 
traction, the  cynosure  of  every  eye.  At  this  Festi- 
val of  the  Victories,  Madame  Bonaparte,  who  was 
much  admired,  shared  the  scepter  of  popularity  with 
Mmes.  Tallien  and  Recamier.  ' '  Although  she  was 
less  fresh  and  brilliant,  yet,  thanks  to  the  regularity 
of  her  features,  the  wonderful  grace  of  her  figure, 
and  her  agreeable  expression,  she  too  was  beauti- 
ful." 

But  two  months  had  passed  since  Josephine  had 
cast  her  lot  with  the  obscure  general  of  artillery  ; 
he  had  departed  from  her  without  noise  or  ostenta- 
tion, he  silently  went  to  take  the  command  assigned 
him  ;  with  that  command  he  had  performed  such 
deeds  as  attracted  the  attention  of  the  world  ;  he 
was  famous  among  the  commanders  of  the  age  ;  she 
too  shared  in  the  reflected  glory  of  his  feats  of 
arms. 


JOSEPHINE.  217 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  LITTLE  HOUSE,    RUE   CHANTEREINE. 

THE  Citizeness  Bonaparte,  now  the  adored  of  the 
Parisian  populace,  they  lovingly  called  "  Notre 
Dame  des  Victoires.  Her  influence  upon  the  fortunes 
of  her  husband  was  recognized  by  them  as  benefi- 
cent. She  was  his  guiding  star.  Not  alone  did  she 
share  in  his  glory  ;  she  had  contributed  to  it  ;  she 
was  his  talisman,  his  sovereign  lady.  Never  did 
knight-errant  or  paladine  worship  with  greater  fer- 
vor at  the  shrine  of  his  beloved,  at  the  feet  of  his 
chosen  one  cast  with  greater  joy  the  tokens  of  his 
victories.  Yet,  through  it  all,  she  bore  herself  with 
sweetest  graciousness  ;  she  was  unchanged,  un- 
touched by  pride  or  vanity.  Her  knight  had  left  her 
in  the  domicile  in  which  he  had  first  seen  his  heart's 
mistress.  There  she  continued  to  reside,  in  the  little 
house,  Eue  Chantereine. 

It  no  longer  exists,  this  abode  of  Josephine  when 
she  was  sole  possessor  of  the  heart  of  Bonaparte  ; 
its  very  site  has  been  a  matter  of  dispute  ;  yet  how 
replete  with  interest  its  walls  would  be,  could  we 
but  view  them  at  the  present  time  !  For  here  they 
loved  ;  at  least  one  was  beloved,  the  other  adored. 
Here  they  first  tasted  the  sweets  of  conjugal  af- 


218  JOSEPHINE. 

faction  ;  here  the  first  news  was  brought  to  Jose- 
phine of  her  husband's  victories.  Alas,  that  it  should 
have  been  effaced,  that  those  walls  which  once  en- 
vironed them  in  their  greatest  happiness,  should  no 
longer  testify,  though  mutely,  to  the  vanished  occur- 
rences that  here  transpired  !  Later,  when  Napoleon 
shall  have  returned  from  Italy,  the  little  house  will 
be  honored  by  a  change  of  name  ;  the  street  in 
which  it  stood  be  called,  instead  of  Chantereine,  la 
Rue  de  la  Victoire — the  Street  of  Victory. 

The  house,  when  Bonaparte  first  met  his  future 
wife  in  its  reception-room,  was  but  scantily  fur- 
nished ;  yet  everything  was  tasteful  and  pretty  ;  the 
"  furniture  of  mahogany  and  the  yellow  wood  of 
Guadeloupe.  The  low  bed  in  her  small  chamber  was 
daintily  draped,  and  the  room  ornamented  with  a 
harp  and  a  marble  bust  of  Socrates.  The  drawing- 
room,  with  the  exception  of  a  Renaud  piano,  was 
chiefly  furnished  with  mirrors." 

It  maybe  believed  that  the  turn  in  Bonaparte's  fort- 
unes enabled  his  wife  to  refurnish  and  adorn  their 
home  ;  but  she  did  not  abandon  it  for  a  better  and 
larger  house.  She  was  well  content  with  her  sur- 
roundings, though  extravagant  in  dress  and  in 
personal  adornment.  She  was  too  content,  in  truth, 
with  her  home  in  the  Rue  Chantereine,  and  not  all 
the  protestations  of  her  lover-husband  could  for  a 
while  move  her  to  go  to  him.  Letter  after  letter 
arrived,  filled  with  pictures  of  his  desolate  life  with- 
out her,  the  object  of  his  affections  ;  of  the  barren- 
ness of  triumphs  which  he  would  fain  have  her  share 


JOSEPHINE.  219 

with  him.  At  first  she  refused  to  be  moved  by 
them,  replying  coldly  or  vaguely  to  his  entreaties, 
until  finally  his  anger,  even  simulated  jealousy,  was 
aroused.  He  ceased  to  entreat,  he  commanded  ; 
and,  though  reluctantly,  and  with  tears,  she  finally 
prepared  to  journey  to  Italy.  Her  indifference 
seems  strange  to  one  unacquainted  with  her  indo- 
lent nature,  her  love  of  ease,  her  liking  for  Paris. 
"  Her  grief  was  extreme  when  she  saw  that  she  could 
no  longer  postpone  her  departure.  . .  She  would  have 
given  the  palace  at  Milan,  that  was  made  ready  for 
her  ;  she  would  have  given  all  the  palaces  in  the 
world  for  her  little  house  in  the  Eue  Chantereine." 
Says  Marmont  :  "  Bonaparte,  however  occupied 
he  may  have  been  with  his  greatness,  was  continually 
thinking  of  his  wife.  He  often  spoke  to  me  of  her, 
and  of  his  love,  with  all  the  frankness,  fire  and  illu- 
sion of  a  very  young  man." 

Bonaparte  constantly  carried  with  him  a  portrait 
of  Josephine,  painted  by  the  artist  Isaby,  at  the  time 
of  their  marriage.  It  was  then  the  most  precious 
of  his  possessions  ;  he  regarded  it  as  his  talisman. 
The  glass  covering  this  miniature  was  broken,  by 
accident,  and  he  regarded  this  as  an  omen  of  evil 
tidings,  saying  to  Marmont:  "  My  wife  is  ill,  or 
she  is  unfaithful  ;  "  in  his  anxiety  and  jealousy  re- 
verting at  once  to  the  object  of  his  affections  ;  and 
not  till  he  had  received  assurance  of  her  health  and 
safety,  by  special  courier,  was  his  distress  allayed. 

"  In  this  love,"  says  another  contemporary, 
"  which  has  been  said  to  be  the  only  one  that 


220  JOSEPHINE. 

touched  his  heart,  all  the  fire  and  flame  of  his  master- 
ful nature  showed  itself. "  In  April  he  wrote  :  .  .  . 
"  0,  my  adorable  wife  ;  I  do  not  know  what  fate 
awaits  me,  but  if  it  keeps  me  longer  from  you  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  endure  it  ;  my  courage  will  not 
hold  out  to  that  point.  There  was  a  time  when  I 
was  proud  of  that  courage  ;  and  when  I  thought  of 
the  harm  that  men  might  do  me,  of  the  lot  that  my 
destiny  might  reserve  for  me,  I  looked  at  the  most 
terrible  misfortunes  without  alarm.  But  now  the 
thought  that  my  Josephine  may  be  in  trouble,  that 
she  may  be  ill  ;  and  above  all,  the  cruel,  fatal 
thought  that  she  may  love  me  less,  inflicts  my  soul 
with  torture,  stops  the  beating  of  my  heart,  makes 
me  sad  and  dejected,  robs  me  of  even  the  courage  of 
fury  and  despair.  I  often  used  to  say  :  Man  can  do 
no  harm  to  one  who  is  willing  to  die  ;  but  now,  to 
die  without  being  loved  by  you,  without  this  cer- 
tainty, is  the  torture  of  hell.  ...  It  seems  to  me 
as  if  I  were  choking.  My  only  companion,  you 
who  have  been  chosen  by  fate  to  make  with  me  the 
painful  journey  of  life  :  the  day  when  I  shall  no 
longer  possess  your  heart  will  be  that  in  which  for  me 
the  world  shall  have  lost  all  warmth,  all  attractive- 
ness. .  .  .  But  I  will  stop,  my  own,  my  soul  is  sad. 
I  am  tired,  my  mind  is  exhausted  ;  I  am  sick  of 
men  :  I  have  good  reasons  for  hating  them,  for  they 
separate  me  from  my  love." 

Lovers  are  the  same  the  wide  world  over  ;  there 
is  a  sameness  in  all  love-letters,  of  whatever  race, 


JOSEPHINE.  221 

\ 

degree  or  birth  their  writer  may  have  been.  They 
are  but  the  vaporings  of  the  passion  that,  some  time 
or  other,  seizes  upon  and  possesses  all  men.  They 
are  rarely  the  genuine  expressions  of  the  soul  ; 
rather  of  the  distorted  imagination.  So  far  as  man's 
love  could  be  genuine  and  true,  Bonaparte's  love 
was  ;  for  the  time  he  was  completely  possessed  by  it. 
That  it  came  to  an  end,  that  he  was  no  longer 
swayed  by  the  impulse  of  a  fine  passion,  was  a  mat- 
ter of  course.  But  it  lasted  long — for  several  months. 
That  is  a  long  while,  for  such  a  passion — and  such  a 
man. 

As  for  Josephine,  says  one  who  met  them  both  at 
this  period :  "  In  his  presence  she  seemed  to  feel 
more  embarrassment  and  surprise  than  love.  .  .  . 
She  preferred  enjoying  her  husband's  triumphs  in 
Paris,  to  joining  him  in  Italy.  ..."  One  writer  has 
even  said  :  ...  "  Josephine  found  a  good  deal  of 
amusement  in  Bonaparte's  passion.  I  can  hear  her 
say,  with  her  Creole  accent :  '  How  funny  Bonaparte 
is  ! '  This  may  be  an  exaggeration,  with  more  or  less 
of  malice  ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  she  was  less  in  love 
with  her  husband  than  he  was  with  her.  More 
than  this,  it  is  doubtful  if  she  could  understand  this 
passion,  so  blind,  so  absorbing ;  it  must  have  wea- 
ried, if  it  did  not  even  annoy  and  embarrass  her.  She 
had  not  then  awakened  to  its  value,  could  not  under- 
stand that  at  her  feet  was  the  heart  of  a  man  so 
transcendentally  superior  to  the  average  of  men  that 
his  love  was  to  be  desired  above  all  treasures  of 
earth  and  heaven.  She  awoke,  too  late,  to  a  reali- 


222  JOSEPHINE. 

zation  of  its  worth  ;  of  its  surpassing  preciousness  ; 
she  lived  to  regret,  with  tears  and  remorse,  the  pass- 
ing of  this  passion.  .  .  .  Says  Madame  de  Remusat : 
...  "  Possibly  the  cold  reception  with  which  his 
ardent  feelings  were  met,  had  its  influence  upon,  and 
at  last  benumbed  him.  Perhaps  he  would  have  been 
a  better  man,  if  he  had  been  more,  and  especially 
better,  loved."  Perhaps  ;  yes,  probably  ;  but  it  was 
not  her  fault  that  she  did  not  understand.  She  was 
light-hearted  and  even  frivolous.  She  had  become 
accustomed  to  accepting  the  homage  of  men  as  a 
passing  tribute,  merely,  to  her  charms,  her  position  ; 
not  to  be  taken  seriously.  But  here  was  a  man  who 
had  taken  her  most  seriously,  who  was  terribly  in 
earnest,  who,  having  acquired  the  right  to  demand 
her  allegiance,  did  demand  it,  and  more  :  exacted 
love  in  equal  measure  for  his  own.  No  doubt  it 
wearied  her,  for,  though  she  could  return  affection, 
and  was  sensible  to  the  most  generous  impulses,  she 
could  not  rise  to  the  heights  of  a  passion  superlative, 
like  this,  in  its  intensity. 

No  wonder  that  he  reproaches  her  with  being  cold 
and  unresponsive  :  .  .  .  "  Your  letters  .  .  .  one 
would  think  they  had  been  written  after  we  had  been 
married  fifteen  years.  They  are  full  of  the  friendli- 
ness and  the  feelings  of  life's  winter  .  .  .  What 
more  can  you  do  to  distress  me  ?  Stop  loving  me  ? 
That  you  have  already  done.  Hate  me  ?  Well,  I 
wish  you  would.  Everything  degrades  me  except 
hatred  ;  but  indifference — Still,  a  thousand  kisses, 
tender,  like  my  heart." 


JOSEPHINE.  223 

This  tension  cannot  endure,  it  is  impossible  that 
jealousy  shall  not  supervene  ;  it  does  ;  he  threatens 
her,  with  all  the  frenzy  of  a  wronged  and  outraged 
lover.  "What  are  you  doing?  Why  do  you  not 
come  to  me  ?  If  it  is  a  lover  that  detains  you,  beware 
Othello's  dagger."  In  his  heart  he  knew  it  was  no 
lover  ;  but  lovers  do  not  consult  their  reason  ;  they 
cannot ;  reason  has  fled. 

Neither  threats  nor  suspicions  moved  her  until 
the  last  moment,  when,  Junot  and  her  husband's 
brother,  Joseph,  united  in  persuading  her  to  accom- 
pany them  to  Italy.  She  had  feigned  sickness,  had 
written  him  of  a  possible  pregnancy  as  the  cause  of 
her  delay,  at  news  of  which  he  was  filled  with  re- 
morse, at  the  same  time  with  rapture.  He  wrote  to 
Joseph  :  .  .  .  . 

"  My  friend,  I  am  in  despair  about  my  wife  ;  the 
only  creature  in  the  world  whom  I  love  is  ill,  and  I  am 
oppressed  with  the  most  gloomy  forebodings  because 
of  her  condition.  See  her,  I  beseech  you,  and  tell 
me  exactly  how  she  is  ....  Reassure  me,  tell  me 
the  truth.  .  .  .  I  am  alone,  given  over  to  fears  and 
ill-health  ;  nobody  writes  to  me,  and  I  feel  deserted 
by  all,  even  by  you.  If  my  wife  is  able  to  stand  the 
journey,  I  desire  that  she  should  come  to  me,  for  I 
need  her.  I  love  her  to  distraction,  and  I  can  no 
longer  endure  this  separation.  If  she  has  ceased  to 
love  me,  my  mission  on  earth  is  finished.  I  leave 
myself  in  your  hands,  my  best  of  friends,  and  I  be- 
seech you  to  so  arrange  matters  that  my  courier  will 
not  be  obliged  to  remain  in  Paris  more  than  six 


224  JOSEPHINE. 

hours,  to  hasten  his  return   with  the  news  which 
will  give  me  new  life." 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Bonaparte  wrote  his  wife 
the  longest,  the  most  eloquent,  the  most  passionate 
of  his  epistles.  It  was  dated 

TOKTONA,MIDI,  le  27  Prairial,  An  IV.  de  la  Kepublique 

(15th  June,  1796). 

"  To  JOSEPHINE — 

"  My  life  is  a  perpetual  nightmare. — A  black  pre- ' 
sentiment  makes  even  breathing  difficult.  I  am  no 
longer  alive  ;  I  have  lost  more  than  life,  more  than 
happiness,  more  than  peace  ;  I  am  almost  without 
hope.  I  am  sending  you  a  courier.  He  will  stay 
only  four  hours  in  Paris,  and  then  will  bring  me  your 
answer.  Write  me  at  least  ten  pages ;  that  is  the  only 
thing  that  can  console  me  in  the  least.  You  are  ill  ? 
You  love  me  ;  I  have  distressed  you  ;  you  are  with 
child,  and  I  do  not  see  you.  This  thought  re- 
proaches me.  I  have  treated  you  so  ill  that  I  do 
not  know  how  to  set  myself  right  again  in  your 
eyes.  ...  I  have  been  blaming  you  for  staying  in 
Paris,  and  all  the  time  you  have  been  ill.  Forgive 
me,  my  sweet  ;  the  love  with  which  you  have  filled 
me  has  deprived  me  of  my  reason,  and  I  fear  I 
shall  never  recover  it.  For  it  is  a  malady  from 
which  there  is  no  recovery.  My  forebodings  are  so 
gloomy  that  all  I  ask  is  to  see  you,  to  press  you  to 
my  heart  for  two  hours,  and  that  we  may  die  to- 
gether. .  .  .  Who  is  taking  care  of  you  ?  I  sup- 
pose that  you  have  sent  for  Hortense.  I  love  the 


JOSEPHINE.  225 

child  a  thousand  times  better,  since  I  think  that  she 
may  be  able  to  console  you  a  little.  As  for  me,  I 
am  without  consolation,  rest,  hope,  until  I  see  again 
the  courier  whom  I  am  sending  to  you,  and  until 
you  explain  to  me  in  a  long  letter  just  what  is  the 
matter  with  you  and  how  serious  it  is. 

"If  there  were  any  danger  I  assure  you  that  I 
should  at  once  leave  for  Paris.  .  .  .  Josephine, 
how  could  you  allow  so  long  a  time  to  go  by 
without  writing  me  ?  Your  last  brief  letter  was 
dated  the  third  of  the  month  (22d  May  ;  doubtless 
she  had  written,  but  her  letters  had  gone  astray). 
However,  I  carry  it  with  me  always  in  my  pocket. 
Your  letters  and  your  portrait  are  ever  before  my 
eyes. 

"  I  am  nothing  without  you.  .  .  .  Ah,  Josephine, 
if  you  could  have  known  my  heart,  would  you  have 
allowed  so  long  a  time  to  go  by  before  leaving,  or  if 
you  had  not  lent  ear  to  those  who  would  detain  you  ? 
I  suspect  all  the  world  ;  everybody  about  you.  .  .  . 
I  calculate  that  you  will  leave  about  the  fifth  and 
arrive  at  Milan  on  the  fifteenth  (4th  of  May  and 
3d  of  June). 

"  Josephine,  if  you  love  me,  if  you  believe  that 
everything  depends  upon  your  preservation,  upon 
your  safe  arrival,  be  very  careful  of  yourself. 
Travel  by  short  stages  ;  write  me  at  every  stopping- 
place,  and  send  the  letters  on  in  advance.  ...  I 
think  upon  your  illness  night  and  day.  Without 
appetite,  without  sleep,  without  interest  in  any- 
thing :  friendship,  glory,  country ;  it  is  you,  you ; 

'5 


226  JOSEPHINE. 

and  the  rest  of  the  world  no  more  exists  than  if  it 
were  annihilated. 

"I  value  honor  for  your  sake,  victory  because  it 
gives  you  pleasure  ;  if  it  were  not  so  I  should  have 
left  all  and  cast  myself  at  your  feet.  Sometimes 
I  say  :  I  alarm  myself  without  cause  ;  she  is  already 
on  the  way.  .  .  .  Vain  thought ;  you  are  still  in 
your  bed,  still  suffering,  more  beautiful,  more  in- 
teresting, more  adorable  ;  you  are  pale,  your  eyes 
more  languishing.  .  .  .  Truly  fate  is  cruel,  she 
strikes  me  through  you. 

"  In  your  letter,  my  friend,  take  care  to  assure  me 
that  you  are  convinced  that  I  love  you  beyond  con- 
ception ;  that  you  are  persuaded  that  all  my  time  is 
consecrated  to  you,  that  not  an  hour  passes  without 
thoughts  of  you  ;  that  the  idea  never  occurs  to  me 
to  think  of  another  woman  ;  that  they  are  all  with- 
out grace,  beauty  and  wit ;  that  you,  you  alone,  have 
absorbed  all  the  faculties  of  my  soul  .  .  .  that  my 
soul  is  in  your  body,  and  the  day  in  which  you 
shall  change,  or  cease  to  love  me,  will  be  that  of 
my  death  ;  that  nature,  the  earth,  is  only  beautiful 
because  you  inhabit  it.  ...  If  you  believe  not  all 
that,  if  your  love  is  not  convinced,  affected,  then 
you  grieve  me,  you  love  me  not.  .  .  .  There  is 
a  magnetic  fluid  between  those  who  love.  (Do 
not  all  lovers  believe  this,  and  declare  that 
occult  influences  are  exerted  for  their  benefit 
alone  ?) 

"  You  know  that  I  could  not  endure  the  thought 
of  another  lover,  still  less  to  suffer  one  to  exist :  to 


JOSEPHINE.  227 

tear  out  his  heart  and  to  see  him  would  be  one  and 
the  same  thing.  .  .  . 

"But  I  am  sure  and  proud  of  your  love.  ...  A 
child  as  adorable  as  its  mother  will  be  born  and  will 
pass  several  years  in  your  arms.  Unlucky  I  must 
content  myself  with  a  single  day.  A  thousand 
kisses  upon  your  eyes,  upon  your  lips.  .  .  .  Ador- 
able woman,  what  is  the  secret  of  your  influence  ? 
I  am  very  sick  on  account  of  your  illness ;  I  have 
already  a  burning  fever.  Do  not  detain  the  courier 
more  than  six  hours,  that  he  may  promptly  return 
bearing  the  cherished  letter  of  my  queen. 

"N.  B." 

He  had  written  her  in  April,  shortly  after  de- 
spatching a  letter  to  his  brother  Joseph  : 

"  MY  SWEET  FRIEND.  .  .  . 

"  My  brother  will  hand  you  this  letter.  For  him  I 
have  the  liveliest  friendship.  ...  I  have  written 
Barras  to  name  him  consul  in  some  port  of  Italy.  .  .  . 
I  recommend  him  to  you. 

"I  have  received  your  letter  of  the  16th  and  21st 
(5th  and  10th  of  April).  All  the  days  in  which  you 
did  not  write  me  :  what  did  you,  then  ?  Yes,  my 
friend,  I  am  not  jealous,  but  sometimes  disturbed, 
Come  to  me  quickly;  I  warn  you,  if  you  delay, 
you  will  find  me  ill.  The  fatigues  and  your 
absence  are  too  much  at  one  time. 

"  Your  letters  are  all  the  pleasure  my  days  contain ; 
and  my  happy  days  are  not  frequent.  Junot  goes 


228  JOSEPHINE. 

to  Paris  with  twenty-two  flags.  You  ought  to 
return  with  him,  do  you  understand  ?  .  .  .  Unhap- 
piness  without  remedy,  sorrow  without  consolation, 
continued  suffering  and  suspense,  if  I  have  the  mis- 
fortune to  see  him  return  alone,  my  adorable 
friend.  .  .  .  He  will  see  you,  he  will  breathe  the 
same  air  with  you,  perhaps  you  will  accord  him  the 
inestimable  privilege  of  kissing  your  cheek,  while  I 
am  alone,  and  far,  very  far  away.  But  you  will 
return  with  him,  is  it  not  so  ?  You  will  soon  be 
here  by  my  side,  upon  my  heart,  in  my  arms.  Take 
wings  to  thyself,  come,  come  !  But  journey  slowly  ; 
for  the  road  is  long,  bad,  and  fatiguing.  ...  I 
have  received  a  letter  from  Hortense.  She  is  very 
sweet.  I  am  going  to  write  her.  I  love  her  dearly, 
and  I  will  soon  send  her  the  perfumes  she  wishes. 

"N.  B." 

Josephine  arrived  at  Milan  the  last  of  June,  and 
was  received  with  the  highest  honors.  She  had 
journeyed  in  company  with  Junot  and  Joseph  Bona- 
parte, and  not  alone  with  the  former,  as  the  Duchess 
of  Abrantes  has  stated.  This  is  confirmed  by  Joseph 
himself,  in  his  Memoirs.  Bonaparte  received  her 
with  rapture,  and  it  is  no  figure  of  speech  to  say 
that  all  Italy  was  at  her  feet.  But  two  days  they 
were  allowed  together,  then  the  young  General  was 
obliged  to  hasten  to  avert  the  threatened  catastrophe 
in  the  field  before  the  advancing  Austrian  armies. 

But  he  left  his  beloved  inhabiting  a  palace,  sur- 
rounded by  adoring  courtiers  ;  she  who  but  recently 


JOSEPHINE.  229 

had  been  at  the  door  of  want.  He  left  her  with  the 
assurance  that  she  fully  possessed  the  heart  of  this 
strange  lover,  who  fought  as  ardently  as  he  loved  ; 
who  wrote  with  one  hand  the  most  impassioned 
love-letters,  with  the  other  wielded  an  invincible 
sword.  Still,  she  did  not  yet  understand,  or  fully 
appreciate,  this  absorbing  passion.  We  will  not  dis- 
cuss the  question,  whether  any  woman  could  have 
held  in  thrall  the  heart  of  a  man  so  far  above  his 
contemporaries,  much  less  a  woman  whose  charms 
were  already  fading,  whose  heart  was  slow  to  re- 
spond to  his  passionate  pleadings.  But  at  this  time 
she  possessed  it  utterly. 

"  Once  she  had  arrived  at  Milan,"  says  Marmont, 
"  General  Bonaparte  was  supremely  happy,  for 
then  he  lived  only  for  his  wife.  For  a  long  time 
this  had  been  the  case  ;  never  did  a  purer,  truer, 
or  more  exclusive  love  fill  a  man's  heart,  or  the 
heart  of  so  extraordinary  a  man." 

He  was,  it  may  be  needless  to  repeat,  in  the 
language  of  a  writer  of  the  time,  "  absolutely 
faithful  to  her,  and  at  this  time,  when  all  the 
beauties  of  Milan  were  at  his  feet."  We  cannot 
but  dissent  from  the  additional  comment,  that 
"  his  loyalty  to  her  was  partly  a  matter  of  love, 
partly  of  calculation."  It  was  all  of  love,  or  the 
signs  fail  that  distinguish  dissimulation  from  recti- 
tude. 

At  first  delighted,  Josephine  soon  became  extreme- 
ly bored,  not  only  by  the  numerous  fetes  and  festi- 
vals, but  by  her  lover's  demonstrative  affection. 


230  JOSEPHINE. 

She  was  too  kind-hearted  and  tactful  to  give  out- 
ward expression  to  this  weariness,  but  he  detected 
it  and  it  affected  him  deeply. 

Leaving  her  safely  and  magnificently  domiciled 
at  Milan,  Bonaparte  returned  to  his  armies  in  the 
field,  hurling  his  commands  upon  the  astonished 
Austrians  before  they  were  aware  of  his  presence. 
Then  followed  the  victories  of  Lonato,  the  last  of 
July  and  3d  of  August  ;  Castiglione,  August  5th. 

In  the  midst  of  his  superhuman  labors  he  yet 
found  time  for  a  daily  love-letter ;  the  first  soon 
after  his  departure,  the  6th  of  July  : 

"I  have  whipped  the  enemy.  .  .  I  am  dead  with 
fatigue.  I  pray  you  leave  on  receipt  of  this  to  meet 
me  at  Verona  ;  I  have  need  of  you,  for  I  believe  I 
am  going  to  be  very  ill.  I  send  a  thousand  kisses. " 

This  letter  was  written  at  Roverbella  ;  he  could 
not  await  her,  and  they  did  not  meet ;  but  his  desire 
to  see  her  continued,  as  another,  dated  "  Marmirolo, 
17th  July,"  assures  her : 

"I  have  received  your  letter,  my  adorable  friend  ; 
it  has  filled  my  heart  with  joy.  .  .  .  My  felicity  is  to 
be  near  to  you.  Without  ceasing  I  pass  in  review 
the  memory  of  your  kisses,  your  tears,  your  sweet 
jealousies  ;  the  charms  of  the  incomparable  Josephine 
have  kindled  a  constant  flame  in  my  heart  and  in 
my  senses.  .  .  .  Since  I  have  known  you  I  have  adored 
you  every  day  more  and  more  :  this  goes  to  prove 


JOSEPHINE.  231 

that  La-Bruyere's  maxim  :  Love  comes  suddenly,  is 
false.  .  .  .  Show  me  some  of  your  faults  ;  be  less 
beautiful,  less  gracious,  less  tender  and  good  ;  above 
all,  never  be  jealous,  and  never  weep,  for  your  tears 
drive  me  crazy,  they  fire  my  blood.  .  .  .  Rest  well. 
Regain  your  health.  Rejoin  me  as  soon  as  you 
possibly  can,  that  we  may  have  more  happy  days 
together  ere  death  shall  part  us." 

The  day  following,  another  letter,  equally  filled 
with  solicitude,  with  laments  over  her  continued 
absence  from  his  side. 

"  I  have  passed  the  whole  night  under  arms.  .  .  . 
I  am  very  uneasy  to  know  how  you  are,  what  you 
are  doing.  I  have  been  in  Virgil's  village,  on  the 
lake  shore,  by  moonlight,  and  not  a  minute  passed 
in  which  I  did  not  dream  of  Josephine.  .  .  .  The 
enemy  has  made  a  sortie  ;  we  drove  them  back  with 
a  loss  of  500  men.  I  am  well.  I  am  all  yours  and 
have  no  pleasure,  no  happiness,  except  in  your 
society.  ...  A  thousand  kisses,  as  warm  as  you  are 
cold." 

As  during  the  course  of  the  siege  of  Mantua  he 
had  visited  Virgil's  village,  "  thinking  upon  his 
mistress  in  melancholy  revery,"  so  it  seems  his  days 
were  filled  with  her.  Two  days  later  he  complains 
most  dolorously  that  she  has  not  written  him  during 
that  space  of  time :  .  .  .  "  Two  days  without  a 
letter  from  you." 

With  the  same  pen  that  traces  his  love-sick  epistles 


232  JOSEPHINE. 

he  writes  his  short,  terse,  vigorous  appeals  to  the 
army  ;  his  announcements  to  the  Directory  of 
another  victory.  Only  occasionally  does  his  passion 
manifest  itself  in  these  official  communications.  In 
the  month  of  April,  in  a  despatch  to  Carnot,  he 
thanked  him  for  his  attentions  to  Josephine,  recom- 
mending her  to  him  as  a  sincere  patriot,  and  "  whom 
I  love  to  madness."  Thus  he  alternates  between 
his  love  for  Josephine  and  his  soldiers  ;  never  neglect- 
ing the  one  or  the  other  ;  calm,  intrepid,  wisely 
directing  the  vast  operations  that  are  to  result  in 
the  total  annihilation  of  the  Austrian  armies  ;  turn- 
ing from  these  great  schemes  to  write  his  absent 
wife  ;  upon  his  heart  wearing  her  letters  and  her 
portrait. 

The  last  of  July  he  arranged  for  his  wife  to  meet 
him  at  Brescia,  attending  to  every  detail  of  her 
journey  with  solicitude  for  her  safety  ;  but  a  change 
in  Wurmser's  movements  precipitated  Josephine 
into  the  midst  of  the  contending  armies.  She 
narrowly  escaped  capture,  she  witnessed  the  horrible 
effects  of  shot  and  shell,  saw  the  dead  and  wounded 
brought  from  the  field  of  battle,  and  at  one  time 
was  under  fire  from  a  hostile  fort.  After  many 
dangers  she  reached  a  place  of  safety,  was  joined  by 
her  husband  in  the  intervals  of  his  arduous  duties, 
and  received  from  him  continued  testimonials  of 
his  affection.  It  was  at  this  time  that  he  wrote  : 

"Wurmser  shall  pay  dear  for  the  tears  he  has 
caused  you." 


JOSEPHINE.  233 

The  tenth  of  August,  after  that  five-days'  cam- 
paign that  made  him  a  marked  figure  for  fame,  he 
recommenced  his  letters  to  his  wife.  They  show 
no  diminution  of  affection,  but  the  same  love  and 
tender  regard.  Writing  from  Brescia,  which  he 
entered  in  triumph,  he  says  : 

"My  first  thought  on  arrival  here  is  to  write  to 
you,  my  adorable  Josephine.  Your  health  and  your 
image  have  been  the  subject  of  my  thoughts  during 
all  the  journey  thither.  I  shall  not  rest  until  I 
have  received  your  letters.  .  .  .  Adieu,  my  sweet 
Josephine  ;  be  careful  of  your  health,  and  think 
often,  often  of  me." 


234  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
NAPOLEON'S  LOVE-LETTERS. 

AFTER  having  secured  the  fruits  of  his  recent 
victories,  Bonaparte  hastened  to  Milan,  where  he 
passed  two  happy  weeks  in  the  society  of  his  wife. 
They  were  lodged  in  the  palace  Serbelloni,  residence 
of  the  duke  of  the  same  name,  and  where  they 
received  the  tributes  and  homage  of  the  delighted 
Italians.  Although  but  recently  in  desperate  straits 
of  poverty,  with  an  army  ragged  and  insufficiently 
supplied,  the  fortunes  of  the  French  had  undergone 
a  most  magical  change.  Bonaparte  was  surrounded 
by  a  brilliant  staff  of  gallant  officers  :  Berthier, 
Murat,  Junot,  Duroc,  Lemarrois,  Sulkowski :  Muiron 
and  Elliot,  who  were  soon  to  fall  at  Arcola  and  be 
replaced  by  Lavalette  and  Croisier ;  all  devoted  to 
their  young  general  and  anxious  to  gain  the  good 
graces  of  his  lovely  wife.  By  his  side  also  was  the 
young  brother  of  Napoleon,  Louis  Bonaparte,  as 
lieutenant  in  the  dragoons,  and  who  was  to  sustain 
the  most  intimate  relations  with  Josephine's  family, 
at  a  later  period,  by  marriage  with  her  daughter. 

At  this  time  shone  forth  the  genius  of  Napoleon, 
as  an  organizer  of  victory  and  government,  as  a 


JOSEPHINE.  235 

reconstructer  of  society,  as  a  king-maker  and  civic 
ruler,  which  was  only  surpassed  by  his  genius  as 
a  commander  of  armies. 

In  the  moral  conquest  of  Italy  Bonaparte  was 
ably  assisted  by  his  wife,  who  won  the  hearts  of  the 
people  while  he  fought  their  battles.  He  himself 
has  borne  testimony  to  this  fact  in  his  famous  epi- 
gram :  "I  win  battles,  Josephine  wins  me  hearts." 

But  it  was  not  long  the  happy  pair  were  to  enjoy 
each  other's  society,  for  the  exigencies  of  the  war 
called  Napoleon  again  to  the  field.  That  he  had 
not  allowed  his  love  to  weaken  him  or  to  cause  him 
to  forget  the  art  of  winning  battles,  was  soon  shown 
by  the  victories  of  Roveredo  and  Bassano,  September 
4th  and  8th,  which  drove  his  antagonist  into  Man- 
tua, with  the  shattered  remnant  of  his  army. 

There  is  in  existence  a  letter  of  Josephine's  which 
is  of  great  value  as  indicating  the  relative  locations 
of  the  members  of  her  family  at  this  period:— 

MILAN,  6th  September,  1796. 

£|M.  the  Duke  of  Serbelloni  leaves  at  once  for 
Paris,  and  he  has  promised  me,  my  dear  Hortense, 
to  call  on  you  the  morning  after  his  arrival.  He 
will  tell  you  how  often  I  speak  of  thee,  think  of  thee, 
and  how  much  I  love  thee.  Eugene  shares  with  you 
these  sentiments,  my  dear  daughter ;  I  love  you  both 
to  adoration.  M.  Serbelloni  will  give  thee,  from 
Bonaparte  and  myself,  some  little  souvenirs,  for 
thee,  Emilie  (daughter  of  the  Marquise  Frangoise  de 
Beauharnais)  Eugene,  and  Jerome  (the  youngest 


236  JOSEPHINE. 

brother  of  Napoleon,  who  had  been  placed  in  the 
same  school  with  Eugene). 

Kindest  remembrances  to  Mme.  Campan,  to  whom 
I  hope  to  send  some  beautiful  Italian  engravings. 
Embrace  for  me  my  dear  Eugene,  Emilie  and  Jerome. 
Adieu,  my  dear  Hortense,  my  darling  daughter ; 
think  often  of  thy  mamma,  write  her  often. 

"  JOSEPHINE  BONAPARTE." 

The  tenth  of  September,  after  the  decisive  victory 
over  the  Austrians,  Bonaparte  writes  to  Josephine 
a  brief  account  of  his  gigantic  labors  : — "The  enemy 
has  lost,  my  dear  friend,  some  18,000  men  as  pris- 
oners ;  the  rest  are  killed  or  wounded.  Wurmser, 
with  a  column  of  1,500  horse  and  5,000  infantry, 
had  no  other  recourse  than  to  throw  himself  into 
Mantua.  ...  I  have  been  here,  my  dear  Josephine, 
two  days,  badly  lodged,  and  very  much  vexed  to  be 
so  far  from  thee,  Wurmser  is  surrounded.  .  .  . 
The  instant  this  affair  is  concluded  I  shall  be  in  thy 
arms.  A  million  times  I  embrace  thee." 

But  enough  have  been  quoted,  of  these  ardent  love- 
epistles  from  Bonaparte  to  his  wife,  to  show  how 
absorbing  and  all -possessing  was  the  love  that  held 
him  enthralled.  He  is  constantly  crying  out  against 
her  coldness  and  her  neglect ;  perhaps  with  reason, 
since  she  doubtless  had  more  time  than  he  to  write 
and  did  not  respond  to  his  numerous  communications. 
Josephine's  letters  to  her  husband  have  not  been 
preserved,  and  thus  it  must  be  mainly  upon  his  own 
testimony  that  she  is  convicted  of  the  charge  of 


JOSEPHINE.  237 

coldness  and  indifference.  But  the  fact  that  she 
was  so  acceptable  to  him  when  they  were  together, 
that  she  so  completely  satisfied  him  by  her  presence, 
seems  to  refute  the  charge  of  indifference.  He  was 
in  love ;  love  exacts  everything,  imagines  every- 
thing ;  is  impatient  of  delay  and  vexed  by  apparent 
forgetfulness.  Still,  there  was  a  basis  of  reason  in 
his  complaints  ;  she  was  true  to  her  indolent  nature  ; 
laissez-faire  was  her  motto,  and— she  was  not  yet 
deeply  in  love  ! 

Towards  the  end  of  September  he  wrote  a  most  dol- 
orous letter,  full  of  complaints  of  her  coldness  :  .  .  . 
"  Thy  letters  are  as  cold  as  fifty  years  of  age.  .  .  . 
Tes  lettres  sont  froides  comme  cinquante  ans ;  elles 
resemblant  a  quinze  ans  de  menage.  On  y  voit 
Vamitie  et  les  sentiments  de  cet  hiver  de  la  vie.  Fi  ! 
Josephine.  .  .  C'est  bien  mediant,  bien  mauvais, 
bientraitre  a  vous."  .  .  .  etc. 

No  one  can  deny  that  this  young  man  was  then  in 
love  ;  that  his  mistress  then  held  exclusive  possession 
of  a  heart  devoted  entirely  to  her  service. 

Yet,  though  inextricably  enmeshed  in  love's  net, 
he  was  still  the  formidable  enemy  of  the  Austrian 
armies.  Austria  put  forth  all  her  power  to  meet 
and  crush  him  ;  he  met  and  vanquished  her  bravest 
generals,  her  most  skilled  and  experienced  officers. 
A  new  army  under  Alvinzi,  fifty  thousand  strong, 
Napoleon  met  with  his  forty  thousand  braves,  and, 
in  the  desperately-contested  battle  of  Arcola,  lasting 
three  days,  defeated  them.  This  hardly- won  battle 


238  JOSEPHINE. 

took  place  on  the  15th,  16th  and  17th  of  November. 
Bonaparte  triumphantly  entered  Verona,  his  troops 
and  himself  worn  out  with  the  fatigue  of  constant 
marching  and  fighting.  Yet  he  allowed  little  time 
to  elapse  before  sending  a  letter  to  Josephine,  dated 
Verona,  24th  November,  1796.  .  .  .  "Soon,  my  dear 
one,  I  hope  to  be  in  your  arms.  All  is  well.  Wurai- 
ser  was  defeated  yesterday  under  Mantua.  Thy 
husband  only  needs  Josephine's  love  to  make  him 
perfectly  happy. " 

Wishing  to  give  her  a  happy  surprise,  and  having 
twenty-four  hours  at  his  disposal,  Bonaparte  hast- 
ened to  Milan.  His  disappointment,  his  rage,  may 
be  imagined,  when  he  found  that  she  had  departed 
for  Genoa.  Unaware  of  his  intended  visit,  Josephine 
had  accepted  a  pressing  invitation  from  the  author- 
ities to  visit  the  city  of  Genoa,  where  she  was  received 
with  a  magnificence  unsurpassed  ;  where  she  was  a 
veritable  queen.  Napoleon  did  not  reflect  that  this 
glorious  reception  was  a  tribute  to  himself,  that  in 
honoring  the  wife  of  the  conqueror,  the  Genoese 
were  paying  the  highest  compliment  to  the  victorious 
general.  His  letters  show  the  spirit  in  which  he 
took  her  absence  :  .  .  . 

"MILAN,  27th  November. 

"I  reached  Milan;  I  burst  into  your  room.  I 
had  left  all  to  see  you,  to  fold  you  in  my  arms.  .  .  . 
You  were  not  there.  .  .  .  You  no  longer  care  for 
your  dear  Napoleon.  ...  I  shall  be  here  till  the 
ninth,  during  the  day.  Do  not  disturb  yourself, 
nor  interrupt  your  pleasures  ;  happiness  is  for  you  ; 


JOSEPHINE.  239 

the  world  is  only  too  happy  to  give  you  pleasure  ; 
and  your  husband  only  is  very,  very  unhappy." 

The  next  day  he  wrote  :  .  .  .  "I  can  easily  under- 
stand that  you  have  no  time  to  write  to  me.  Sur- 
rounded with  pleasures  and  entertainments,  you 
would  do  wrong  to  make  the  least  sacrifice  for 
me.  .  .  .  Adieu,  adorable  woman.  Adieu,  my 
Josephine.  Let  fate  concentrate  in  my  heart  all 
the  vexations  and  griefs  ;  but  give,  to  my  Josephine 
days  of  prosperity  and  happiness.  Who  merits  them 
more  than  she  ?  I  open  my  letter  to  imprint  a  kiss 
for  thee. 

"  Ah,  Josephine  !  .  .  .  Josephine  ! 

"BONAPARTE." 

But  he  had  no  time  to  waste  in  idle  repinings  ;  leav- 
ing Milan  he  hastened  again  to  the  field,  commencing 
that  series  of  movements  that  confounded  anew  the 
Austrian  armies  and  culminated  in  repeated  victories 
for  the  French. 

The  last  month  of  1796  found  another  Austrian 
army  in  the  field,  under  the  General  Alvinzi,  who 
was  destined  to  be  no  more  successful  in  this  attempt 
to  combat  Napoleon  than  in  the  first. 

Bewildered  by  these  successive  defeats,  yet  unwill- 
ing to  acknowledge  herself  vanquished,  Austria 
hurled  this  army  of  65,000  men  upon  the  general  of 
the  Republic.  As  before,  his  tactics  triumphed  ;  the 
valor  of  his  brave  soldiers  prevailed  ;  the  victory  of 
Rivoli,  14th  January,  1797,  added  another  to  the 
list  of  Bonaparte's  unbroken  chain  of  triumphs. 


240  JOSEPHINE. 

Soon  after,  Mantua  surrendered,  and  in  quick 
succession  came  the  victories  of  Faenza,  Ancona, 
Loreto,  Tolentino. 

Without  allowing  his  enemies  any  rest,  Bonaparte 
turned  upon  the  Papal  States,  and  in  two  weeks 
forced  the  Pope  to  sign  a  treaty  by  which  the  French 
were  enabled  to  fight  the  Austrians  on  their  own  soil. 
This  was  in  February.  In  March,  he  forced  the 
passage  of  the  Tagliamento  (on  the  nineteenth)  ; 
on  the  twenty-third  he  had  Trieste  in  his  possession. 
The  first  week  of  April  saw  the  French  army  on  the 
road  to  Vienna,  and  the  threat  of  Bonaparte,  that 
he  would  dictate  terms  to  the  Emperor  of  Austria 
in  his  own  capital,  likely  to  be  fulfilled.  Only  the 
armistice  of  Leoben,  signed  on  the  nineteenth  of 
April,  saved  the  capital  from  invasion. 

The  first  week  in  May  war  was  declared  against 
Venice,  and  by  the  middle  of  that  month  was  oc- 
cupied, and  at  the  feet  of  the  conqueror  ;  while 
Genoa  was  revolutionized  as  the  Ligurian  Republic. 
The  last  of  June  witnessed  the  proclamation  of  the 
Cisalpine  Republic,  and  the  French  army,  in  July, 
retired  to  rest  in  the  Venetian  States.  During  the 
progress  of  the  negotiations  with  Austria,  which 
were  slow  and  tedious,  Bonaparte  established  him- 
self at  Montebello,  some  leagues  distant  from  Milan. 
Here,  surrounded  by  the  mozt  beautiful  scenery, 
attended  by  beauties  of  most  distinguished  rank, 
who  all  rendered  homage  to  the  honored  wife  of 
Bonaparte  ;  visited  by  the  envoys  of  Austria,  of  the 
Pope,  of  the  kings  of  Naples  and  Sardinia  ;  Bona- 


JOSEPHINE.  241 

parte  gathered  about  him  such  an  assemblage  as 
well  merited  the  distinction  bestowed  by  the  Ital- 
ians, who  called  it  the  Court  of  Montebello. 

The  charming  manners  of  Bonaparte's  wife  had 
won  all  classes  to  her  and  to  him ;  her  fame  was 
already  established ;  but  here  she  first  shone  in  a 
little  court  of  her  own.  Here  she  should  have  been 
happy,  if  ever  ;  her  health  was  re-established  ;  her 
husband  was  now  with  her,  and  not  exposed  to  the 
terrible  vicissitudes  of  the  camp ;  while  Eugene 
had  arrived  from  Paris  to  rejoin  his  beloved  parent 
and  place  himself  at  the  orders  of  Bonaparte,  who 
ever  looked  upon  and  treated  him  as  his  own  son. 
Immediately  upon  his  arrival  he  was  appointed  aide- 
de-camp  to  the  general-in-chief,  who  manifested  for 
him  a  great  attachment,  in  which  he  was  justified 
by  the  boy's  many  admirable  qualities.  He  was 
then  seventeen  years  old,  of  excellent  address,  loyal, 
good-hearted,  courageous,  and  from  the  first  was 
unalterably  devoted  to  his  step- father. 

Josephine  had  somewhat  recovered  her  pristine 
gayety,  and  was  not  so  overcome  by  ennui  as  in  the 
month  preceding,  when  she  wrote  to  her  aunt  that 
she  would  rather  be  an  obscure  dweller  in  her  be- 
loved Paris,  than  the  recipient  of  honors  in  Italy. 
She  was  bored  to  death,  but  admitted  that  she  had 
no  reason  for  it ;  for,  she  adds:  "  I  have  the  most 
delightful  husband,  in  the  world ;  there  is  nothing 
I  desire  that  is  not  mine.  My  wishes  are  his  con- 
stant care.  He  is  all  day  in  adoration  before  me,  as 
though  I  were  a  divinity."  His  divinity  did  not 


242  JOSEPHINE. 

appreciate  this  devotion  at  its  full  value,  it  is  feared  ; 
and  who  can  say  that  her  subsequent  doubts  and 
jealousies  were  not  well  deserved  ?  Later,  a  few 
years,  we  shall  see  that  the  divinities  have  changed 
places  ;  on  the  conjugal  pedestal  is  another  divinity, 
namely,  Napoleon,  and  before  him  prostrate  in  ado- 
ration, this  same  Josephine. 

During  the  time  when  the  Austrians  were  flying 
before  the  redoubtable  Bonaparte,  and  while  he  was 
necessarily  absent  from  his  wife,  he  wrote  the  last 
of  those  letters  which  have  given  her  a  place  among 
those  beloved  of  the  immortals. 

He  was  obliged  to  leave  her  alone  at  Bologna, 
where  she  became  very  sad,  wishing  to  rejoin  him, 
despite  the  fatigues  and  dangers  of  the  field  and 
bivouac,  which  she  was  by  no  means  capable  of 
enduring. 

Napoleon  refused  to  allow  her  to  accompany  him, 
but  assured  her  that  she  should  rejoin  him  as  soon 
the  state  of  the  distracted  country  would  allow ; 
meanwhile  keeping  her  informed  of  his  movements 
by  daily  letters.  In  one  of  these  he  writes  :  .  .  . 

"  I  send  you  a  million  kisses.  I  was  never  so  tired 
of  this  detestable  war  as  at  this  moment.  Adieu, 
my  sweet  friend  ;  think  of  me. " 

The  thirteenth  of  February  he  adds  : 

"  I  am  about  setting  out  to  cross  the  mountains. 
The  very  first  opportunity,  I  shall  have  you  with 


JOSEPHINE.  243 

me ;  that  is  the  most  cherished  wish  of  my  heart. 
A  thousand  and  a  thousand  kisses." 

But  in  this  continued  separation  from  her  husband 
and  children,  the  constant  strain  upon  her  feelings, 
caused  by  the  alarms  and  uncertainties  of  the  war, 
plunged  Josephine  into  the  deepest  melancholy. 
Bonaparte  was  distressed  at  the  reception  of  this 
news,  and  on  the  sixteenth  of  February,  wrote  her  : 

"  You  are  sad,  you  are  ill,  you  wish  to  return 
to  Paris  ?  Do  you  not  love  your  friend  any  more  ? 
This  thought  makes  me  very  unhappy.  My  sweet 
friend,  life  seems  hardly  endurable  since  I  have  been 
informed  of  your  sadness.  ...  I  pray  you  take 
care  of  your  health,  love  me  as  much  as  I  love 
you,  and  write  me  every  day.  .  .  .  Perhaps  I  shall 
soon  conclude  peace  with  the  Pope,  and  then  I  shall 
be  at  your  side  ;  this  is  the  most  ardent  wish  of  my 
soul.  ...  I  give  you  a  hundred  kisses.  .  .  .  Write 
m®  by  your  own  hand  every  day. "... 

This  letter  was  sent  by  a  special  messenger  ;  and 
three  days  after  he  wrote  again,  this  time  from 
Tolentino,  to  acquaint  her  that  he  had  signed  the 
treaty  with  the  holy  father,  and  would  soon  return  to 
her  at  Bologna.  ...  He  still  insisted  upon  a  daily 
letter  from  her,  and  if  a  clay  passed  without  the  ex- 
pected epistle,  he  was  uneasy  and  downcast. 

(l  Not  one  word  from  your  hand  to-day.     Good 


244  JOSEPHINE. 

God  !  What  then  have  I  done  ?  I  think  only  of  you; 
I  love  only  Josephine  ;  live  only  for  my  wife  ;  do  not 
I  merit  better  treatment  at  her  hands  ?  My  friend, 
I  entreat  you,  think  often  of  me  and  write  me  every 
day.  You  are  sick,  or  you  do  not  love  me.  Think 
you  my  heart  is  of  marble  ?  .  .  .  You  do  not  know 
me.  I  cannot  believe  it  of  you,  you  to  whom  nature 
has  given  wit,  sweetness  and  beauty  ;  you  who  alone 
reign  in  my  heart  ;  you  who  well  know,  without 
doubt,  the  absolute  empire  you  have  over  me.  .  .  . 
Write  me,  think  of  me,  and  above  all,  love  me. 
Yours  for  life.  ..." 

This  is  the  last  letter  of  this  period  written  by 
Bonaparte  to  his  wife  ;  for  he  soon  rejoined  her  at  Bo- 
logna, and  together  they  went  to  Milan,  where  they 
passed  happy  days  in  loving  companionship.  After 
five  years  of  war,  the  most  obstinate  of  the  enemies 
of  France  was  humbled,  and  sued  for  peace  at  the 
hands  of  this  young  general  of  twenty-seven  years, 
who  at  one  bound  had  placed  himself  above  all  the 
great  captains  of  his  time. 

It  was  during  the  long  delay  consequent  upon  the 
negotiation  of  the  treaty,  which  was  finally  signed 
the  lYth  October,  that  Bonaparte  planned  a  diver- 
sion for  Josephine  in  the  trip  to  Venice.  The  gov- 
ernment of  Venice  had  invited  him  to  visit  that 
historic  capital ;  but  for  reasons  of  his  own,  and  of 
which  his  wife  was  not  cognizant,  he  declined.  In 
language  which  has  been  attributed  to  her,  she 
says  :  "  The  general  well  knew  how  to  gild  the 


JOSEPHINE.  245 

chains  which  he  had  imposed  with  so  much  good- 
nature and  address,  upon  those  he  called  his  good 
friends,  the  Italians.  ...  I  spoke  Italian  passably 
enough  ;  at  least  to  be  able  to  reply  to  the  compli- 
ments made  me,  and  sometimes  to  the  very  weari- 
some speeches  with  which  they  honored  the  '  First 
Citoyenne'  of  the  French  Republic."  Bonaparte's 
designs  were  not  known  to  Josephine,  as  she  was 
not  then  the  depositary  of  his  confidence,  and  it  can- 
not be  declared  against  her  that  she  lent  herself  to 
"  gilding  the  chains  "  which  he  was  then  forging 
for  the  unhappy  Venetians.  She  was  received 
everywhere  with  acclamation,  fetes  and  processions 
were  made  in  her  honor,  processions  of  gondolas  on 
the  grand  canal.  The  Venetians  threw  themselves 
at  the  feet  of  the  wife  of  the  conqueror  of  Italy, 
hoping  to  flatter  him  by  these  attentions  ;  at  the 
same  time  paying  a  tribute  of  homage  to  one  who 
had  gained  all  hearts  by  her  kindness. 

They  vied  with  the  Milanese  in  their  endeavors  to 
gratify  her  every  taste,  her  eveiy  ambition  ;  and 
had  it  depended  upon  Josephine  alone,  the  fate  of 
Venice  would  have  been  more  fortunate.  The 
sinister  designs  of  her  husband  were  soon  made 
manifest  ;  but  not  in  time  to  mar  the  pleasure  of 
this  auspicious  journey. 

After  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formio  had  been 
signed,  by  which  Austria  ceded  immense  territory, 
giving  to  France  a  frontier  on  the  Rhine,  and  secur- 
ing to  Bonaparte  the  fruits  of  his  numerous  vic- 
tories, Josephine,  yielding  to  a  desire  to  visit  the 


246  JOSEPHINE. 

Holy  City,  and  to  see  her  son,  Eugene,  who  was 
there  on  a  mission,  parted  from  Bonaparte  and 
went  to  Eome. 

Her  reception  there  was  in  accord  with  her  pre- 
vious treatment,  in  Milan,  in  Venice  ;  and  this 
homage  was  bestowed  as  well  upon  Josephine,  the 
woman  of  heart  and  feeling,  as  upon  Madame 
Bonaparte,  the  wife  of  the  victorious  general. 

By  this  digression,  Josephine  was  not  able  to 
participate  in  the  homeward  journey  of  Napoleon, 
which  was  one  unbroken  series  of  triumphal  proces- 
sions. For  a  caprice,  some  have  declared,  Josephine 
thus  renounced  the  triumphant  journey  across 
Switzerland  and  Italy  ;  but  it  was  rather  from  a 
desire  to  embrace  her  son,  and  to  behold  the  glories 
of  the  Eternal  City. 

Bonaparte  left  Milan  on  the  17th  of  November,  to 
place  himself  at  the  head  of  the  congress  of  Eastadt ; 
thence  he  was  summoned  by  the  Directory  to  Paris. 
Before  his  departure  he  sent  to  France  a  flag  in- 
scribed upon  which  was  a  summary  of  what  had 
been  accomplished  in  the  two  years'  fighting,  in  the 
succession  of  most  splendid  victories.  Unlike  many 
of  his  reports  from  the  field,  this  was  no  exaggera- 
tion, but  "  a  striking  abridgment  of  the  history  of 
the  Italian  campaign."  .  .  . 

"Prisoners,  150,000;  170  standards;  550  pieces 
siege  artillery  ;  600  field  artillery  ;  5  pontoon  equip- 
ages ;  nine  64-gun  ships  ;  twelve  32-gun  frigates  ; 
12  corvettes  ;  18  galleys  ;  .  .  .  Armistice  with  the 
King  of  Sardinia  ;  convention  with  Genoa  ;  armis- 


JOSEPHINE.  247 

tice  with  the  Duke  of  Parma  ;  armistice  with  the 
King  of  Naples  ;  armistice  with  the  Pope  ;  prelimi- 
naries of  Leoben  ;  convention  of  Montebello  with 
the  republic  of  Genoa  ;  treaty  of  peace  with  the 
Emperor  of  Germany  at  Campo  Formio.  Liberty 
given  to  the  people  of  Bologna,  Ferrara,  Modena, 
Massa- Carrara,  La  Romagna,  Lombardy,  Brescia, 
Bergamo,  Mantua,  Cremona,  part  of  the  Veronese, 
Chiavana,  Bormio,  the  Valteline,  the  Genoese,  the 
Imperial  Fiefs,  the  Departments  of  Corcyra,  of  the 
^SCgean  Sea,  and  of  Ithaca.  .  .  .  Sent  to  Paris  : 
all  the  masterpieces  of  Michael  Angelo,  Guercino, 
Titian,  Paul  Veronese,  Correggio,  Albana,  the  Car- 
racci,  Raphael,  and  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci."  .  .  . 

As  a  military  commander  he  had  dictated  terms 
to  the  most  powerful  nations  of  Europe  ;  as  a  ruler 
he  had  prescribed  forms  of  government  to  nearly 
all  Italy  ;  he  had  enriched  France  with  treasures  of 
art  and  replenished  her  coffers  ;  he  had  made  her 
armies  a  terror  to  the  world. 

Of  his  reception  in  Paris,  when  the  Luxembourg 
was  most  magnificently  decorated  in  honor  of  the 
occasion  ;  when  the  Directory  assembled  there  the 
beauty  and  the  fashion,  the  most  powerful  and  the 
wealthiest,  to  witness  the  triumphant  return  of 
their  famous  general, — of  this  ovation  to  Bonaparte's 
genius,  all  the  world  knows,  and  we  will  not  repeat 
what  properly  pertains  to  the  history  of  his  own  life. 
Josephine  was  not  there  to  grace  the  festivities  with 
her  presence  ;  she  had  voluntarily  abstained  from 
accompany  ing  Bonaparte  on  his  homeward  journey ; 


248  JOSEPHINE. 

it  was  not  till  he  had  been  for  eight  days  established 
in  his  house,  in  the  Rue  Chantereine,  that  she  re- 
turned, wearied  with  the  long  journey,  fatigued 
with  attentions  from  those  who  would  fain  have 
done  her  honor  ;  glad  to  rest  a  while  in  the  arms  of 
her  hero,  and  in  the  little  house  where  they  had  first 
tasted  the  joys  of  marital  affection. 

It  was  on  the  5th  of  December,  1Y97,  that  Bona- 
parte reached  his  home.  He  still  loved  his  wife, 
but  his  love  had  cooled  ;  at  least,  it  was  no  longer 
an  ardent  passion.  There  had  been  no  indiscretions 
on  her  part,  as  some  malicious  writers  have  alleged  ; 
in  truth,  may  we  not  go  further,  and  deny  that 
there  ever  was  criminal  indiscretion — on  her  part — 
during  their  marital  relations  ?  This,  however,  is 
anticipatory  of  the  Egyptian  campaign,  when  they 
were  so  long  separated,  and  when,  without  doubt, 
Napoleon  was  guilty  of  infidelities,  in  the  land  of 
the  Pharaohs. 

She  had  missed  the  glorious  festivities  of  the 
Luxembourg,  when  her  husband  was  so  eulogized  ; 
but  she  was  sated  with  fetes  and  receptions  ;  she 
craved  peace  and  quietude  ;  she  was  well  content 
with  the  retirement  of  their  little  house  in  the  Eue 
Chantereine.  It  had  been  refurnished  and  enlarged, 
by  orders  of  Josephine,  before  her  departure  for 
Italy,  at  an  expense  of  many  thousand  francs  ;  but 
it  was  still  an  obscure  dwelling  for  one  who  had 
brought  to  his  feet  the  most  haughty  and  powerful 
of  the  enemies  of  France. 


JOSEPHINE.  249 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

BONAPARTE  IN  EGYPT. 

ON  the  third  of  January,  1798,  a  few  days  after  the 
return  of  Josephine  from  Italy,  the  minister  of  for- 
eign affairs,  Talleyrand,  gave  an  entertainment  that 
far  outshone  everything  of  the  kind  that  had  been 
attempted  by  the  Directory.  Although  Josephine 
had  missed  the  festivity  of  the  Luxembourg,  she 
now  shared  with  her  glorious  husband  the  honors  of 
this  occasion.  As  an  attraction,  says  an  observer  of 
the  ceremonies,  she  was  second  only  to  Bonaparte. 
Talleyrand's  ball  "  was  the  beginning  of  the  resto- 
ration ;  a  revival  of  the  manners  and  elegance  of 
the  old  regime  ; "  and  who  so  fitted  as  the  wife  of 
Bonaparte  to  lead  the  people  out  of  the  slough  of 
revolutionary  manners  into  the '  light  of  elegant 
society  ? 

Madame  Bonaparte  was  peculiarly  adapted  to 
serve  in  ameliorating  the  harsh  manners  of  the 
society  of  that  period  ;  but,  if  we  may  believe  the 
historians  of  that  time,  Napoleon  was  not.  ' '  He  was, " 
says  Mme.  de  Remusat,  "deficient  in  manners  and 
education  ;  it  seemed  as  if  he  must  have  been 
destined  always  to  live  in  a  tent,  where  all  men  are 


250  JOSEPHINE. 

equal,  or  upon  a  throne,  where  everything  is  per- 
mitted. He  did  not  know  how  either  to  enter  or 
leave  a  room,  nor  how  to  make  a  bow,  nor  how  to 
sit  down  properly.  His  questions  were  abrupt,  and 
so  was  his  manner  of  speech. " 

This  is  shown  in  his  treatment  of  the  celebrated 
Mme.  de  Stae'l,  who  had  conceived  an  enthusiastic 
admiration  for  the  hero  of  Italy.  Far  from  recipro- 
cating this  feeling,  Napoleon  held  her  in  rather 
light  esteem  ;  her  attentions  bored  and  annoyed 
him.  It 'was  at  that  very  ball,  the  story  runs,  that 
he  so  effectually  disposed  of  this  ardent  admirer  and 
cooled  her  enthusiasm. 

"General,"  she  said,  immediately  she  had  been  in- 
troduced to  him,  "  what  woman  do  you  love  best  ? " 

"  My  wife." 

"That  is  natural;  but,  whom  do  you  esteem 
most?" 

"  That  one  who  is  the  best  housekeeper." 

"Ah,  true;  but  who  do  you  think  is  the  first 
among  women  ? " 

"Madame,  the  one  who  bears  the  most  children  ! " 

There  is  little  wonder  that  there  was  ever  after  an 
enmity  between  them ;  but  Napoleon's  subsequent 
treatment  of  this  talented  woman  is  a  foul  blot  upon 
his  character. 

Either  from  desire  to  escape  the  attentions  of  the 
people,  or  from  policy,  Bonaparte  led  a  retired  life, 
going  only  to  those  entertainments  which  were  the 
spontaneous  offerings  of  his  colleagues  and  ad- 
mirers. To  the  Directory  he  was  an  object  of  sus- 


JOSEPHINE  IN  1796. 


JOSEPHINE.  251 

picion,  of  envy ;  its  members  saw  in  this  newly  - 
risen  star  a  rival  who  would  soon  eclipse  their  own 
glory, — which  after  all  was  but  a  reflection  of  his 
achievements.  It  is  not  strange,  then,  that  they 
should  approve  and  even  accelerate  his  scheme  of 
conquest  in  the  Orient.  During  the  whole  Italian 
campaign  they  had  surrounded  him  with  spies,  had 
watched  with  burning  jealousy  his  unexampled 
career  of  conquest  and  glory  ;  had  even  attempted  to 
thwart  his  plans  for  the  aggrandizement  of  France. 
Napoleon  foresaw  the  decline  of  his  popularity,  and 
resolved  upon  a  campaign  that  should  eventually 
revive  it.  "  On  the  night  of  the  tenth  Nivose,"  says 
his  private  secretary  in  his  Memoirs,  "the  Eue 
Chantereine,  in  which  Bonaparte  had  a  small  house, 
received,  in  pursuance  of  a  decree  of  the  Depart- 
ment, the  name  of  Rue  de  la  Victoire.  The  cries  of 
'Vive  Bonaparte,'  and  the  incense  so  prodigally 
offered  up  to  him,  did  not,  however,  seduce  him  from 
his  retired  habits.  Lately  the  conqueror  and  ruler 
of  Italy,  and  now  under  men  for  whom  he  had  MO 
respect,  and  who  saw  in  him  a  formidable  rival,  he 
said  to  me  one  day  :  '  The  people  of  Paris  do  not  re- 
member anything.  Were  I  to  remain  here  long, 
doing  nothing,  I  should  be  lost .'  .  .  .  When  I  ob- 
served that  it  must  be  agreeable  to  him  to  see  his 
fellow-citizens  so  eagerly  running  after  him,  he  re- 
plied :  l  Bah  !  they  would  crowd  as  fast  to  see  me  if 
I  were  going  to  the  scaffold.'  He  wished  to  be  ap- 
pointed a  Director,  but  was  debarred  on  account  of 
his  age  ;  and  perceiving  that  the  time  was  not  yet 


252  JOSEPHINE. 

favorable  for  such  a  purpose,  he  said  to  me,  on  the 
28th  January,  1798  :  '  Bourrienne,  I  do  not  wish  to 
remain  here  ;  there  is  nothing  to  do.  They  are  un- 
willing to  listen  to  anything.  I  see  that  if  I  linger 
here  I  shall  soon  lose  myself.  Everything  wears 
out  here  ;  my  glory  has  already  disappeared.  This 
little  Europe  does  not  supply  enough  of  it  for  me. 
I  must  seek  it  in  the  East,  the  fountain  of  glory.' 
.  .  .  He  revolted  at  the  idea  of  languishing  in  idle- 
ness at  Paris,  while  fresh  laurels  were  growing  for 
him  in  distant  climes.  His  imagination  inscribed 
in  anticipation  his  name  on  those  gigantic  monu- 
ments which  alone,  perhaps,  of  all  the  creations  of 
men,  have  the  character  of  eternity.  Already  pro- 
claimed the  most  illustrious  of  living  generals,  he 
sought  to  efface  the  rival  names  of  antiquity  by  his 
own.  If  Caesar  fought  fifty  battles,  he  longed  to 
fight  a  hundred  ;  if  Alexander  left  Macedon  to  pene- 
trate to  the  Temple  of  Ammon,  he  wished  to  leave 
Paris  to  travel  to  the  cataracts  of  the  Nile.  While 
he  was  thus  to  run  a  race  with  fame,  events  would, 
in  his  opinion,  so  proceed  in  France  as  to  render  his 
return  necessary  and  opportune.  His  place  would 
be  ready  for  him,  and  he  should  not  come  to  claim 
it  a  forgotten  or  unknown  man." 

The  little  house  in  the  Eue  Chantereine  became 
the  center  of  unexampled  activities  :  dinners  to 
officials,  and  headquarters  for  the  general  who  was 
about  launching  himself  into  an  unknown  land,  for 
renewed  conquest  and  to  reap  new  laurels.  Soon  all 
preparations  were  made,  and,  accompanied  by  his 


JOSEPHINE.  253 

wife,  Eugene,  Bourrienne,  Duroc  and  Lavalette, 
Bonaparte  set  out  for  Toulon.  The  journey  was 
more  dangerous,  and  fraught  with  greater  perils, 
than  a  campaign  in  the  enemy's  country,  for  their 
coach  was  nearly  wrecked  on  the  road.  Josephine 
had  intended  to  accompany  her  husband  to  Egypt, 
for  a  sea- voyage  had  no  terrors  for  one  who  had 
already  traversed  the  ocean  several  times ;  and 
the  climate,  she  argued,  could  not  affect  one  born 
beneath  a  tropical  sun.  But  at  Toulon,  when  about 
to  embark,  Napoleon  forbade  her  to  leave,  and  she 
sought  a  retreat  for  a  while  at  Plombieres,  to  obtain 
the  benefit  of  its  waters. 

The  campaign  in  Egypt,  of  which  all  the  world 
knows  the  minutest  details,  forms  no  part  of  this 
history  ;  except  for  the  fact  that  it  was  during  the 
absence  of  Napoleon,  and  because  of  it,  that  occurred 
the  crucial  event  of  their  lives. 

Napoleon  sailed  from  Toulon  on  the  nineteenth  of 
May,  1798.  He  left  the  magnificent  harbor,  which 
he  had  been  instrumental  in  delivering  from  the 
hands  of  the  English  in  '93,  on  board  the  great 
frigate,  "POrient  "  which  was  one  of  the  vessels  he 
himself  rescued  at  the  time  when  he  was  simply  an 
officer  of  artillery.  .  .  .  On  the  twelfth  of  June  the 
strong  fortresses  of  Malta  were  his  ;  the  second  of 
July  Alexandria  was  in  his  possession  ;  on  the  twenty- 
first  the  Battle  of  the  Pyramids  : — "  Soldiers,  from 
the  summits  of  these  pyramids  forty  centuries  look 
down  upon  you  ; " — on  the  twenty-third  of  July  the 
French  were  at  the  gates  of  Cairo. 


254  JOSEPHINE. 

The  battle  of  the  Nile  took  place  on  the  first  of 
August,  and  for  a  brief  period  the  French  rested 
on  their  rapidly-gathered  laurels.  Between  the  first 
of  March,  1799,  and  the  middle  of  June,  was  con- 
summated the  disastrous  Syrian  campaign.  Jaffa 
was  taken,  St.  Jean  d'Acre  was  invested ;  on  the 
16th  of  April  the  battle  of  Mount  Tabor.  The 
horrors  of  this  terrible  campaign  would  fill  a 
volume,  yet  form  but  an  episode  in  the  life  of  the 
extraordinary  man  with  whose  fortunes  are  linked 
those  of  the  one  we  are  following.  The  siege  of 
Acre  was  raised  on  the  22d  of  May,  and  the  14th 
of  June  Napoleon  reached  Cairo,  with  the  remnant 
of  his  army.  In  July,  the  25th,  occurred  the 
terrible  battle  of  Aboukir,  by  which  the  Turkish 
army  was  annihilated  ;  but  this  was  little  compen- 
sation for  the  irreparable  loss  of  the  fleet,  in  the 
Bay  of  Aboukir,  in  the  August  preceding. 

About  this  time  Bonaparte  received  the  first  news 
from  France  for  several  months  :  that  the  Austrians 
had  driven  the  French  out  of  Italy  ;  Macdonald  had 
been  defeated  ;  Hoche  killed  and  his  army  beaten  ; 
that  France  had  lost  all  that  he  so  gloriously  gained 
for  her ;  that  she  had  been  driven  back  to  the  con- 
dition in  which  he  found  her  three  years  before.  ' 

And  besides  these  accumulated  tidings  of  evil, 
news  came  to  him  of  more  terrible  import  than  the 
loss  of  fleets  or  armies  :  which  drove  to  the  verge  of 
despair  this  man  hitherto  so  imperturbable.  He 
had  promised  Josephine  she  should  follow  him  to 
Egypt  in  the  "Pomona,"  two  or  three  months 


JOSEPHINE.  255 

later  ;  but  that  frigate  was  taken  by  the  English, 
on  her  return  voyage  ;  and  other  things  conspired 
to  prevent  her  anticipated  departure.  That  she 
really  believed  she  should  take  the  voyage,  is  shown 
in  a  letter  written  by  her  to  Hortense,  while  at 
Toulon.  While  she  was  at  Plombieres  she  became 
the  victim  of  an  accident  that  nearly  ended  her  life, 
and  was  the  cause  of  her  detention  there  several 
months.  A  balcony  in  which  she  was  sitting  gave 
way  and  precipitated  her  to  the  ground,  causing 
severe  injuries.  Hortense  was  summoned  to  her 
side,  and  nursed  her  mother  with  assiduous  care. 
In  the  month  of  September  they  left  the  watering- 
place  for  Paris,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  sug- 
gestions, or  the  wishes,  of  Bonaparte,  Josephine 
sought  out  a  desirable  country  property,  to  which 
they  might  be  able  to  retire  from  the  fatigues  of 
Parisian  society.  She  finally  purchased  the  estate 
of  Malmaison,  near  the  village  of  Rueil,  of  M. 
Lecoulteux,  a  member  of  the  council  of  ancients, 
and  paid  for  it  the  sum  of  160,000  francs,  partly 
from  her  dowry,  and  partly  from  funds  furnished 
by  Napoleon. 

Malmaison,  though  at  that  time  in  very  bad  con- 
dition, became  at  once  her  favorite  place  of  resi- 
dence, and  it  is  more  intimately  associated  with  her 
later  life  than  any  other.  She  at  once  took  up  her 
abode  at  Malmaison,  alternating  between  it  and  her 
city-house  in  Chantereine  Street.  At  both  places 
she  received  the  most  distinguished  company,  and 
endeavored  to  maintain  a  little  court  of  the  most 


256  JOSEPHINE. 

celebrated  men  and  women  of  the  day.  Her  success 
in  this  respect  has  been  chronicled  by  a  contempo- 
rary, M.  Bouilly,*  who  enumerates  such  as  Bernardin 
St.  Pierre,  author  of  "  Paul  and  Virginia,"  Arnault, 
and  Legouve,  besides  the  ladies  already  familiar  to 
us  as  her  friends  and  associates.  She  did  not  forget 
her  duties  to  her  absent  spouse,  nor  the  perils  which 
threatened  him  from  the  direction  of  the  Directory  ; 
and  it  was  in  keeping  up  her  old  associations  with 
these  men  that  her  own  character  was  com- 
promised. 

She  ably  seconded  all  the  attempts  of  Napoleon's 
brothers  to  maintain  the  popularity  of  the  absent 
general  and  to  prepare  the  field  for  his  plowing 
when  he  should  return.  To  this  end  she  kept  her- 
self en-rapport  with  the  Directory,  attended  all  their 
entertainments,  and  graced  by  her  presence  all  the 
official  receptions.  She  especially  cultivated  the 
acquaintance  and  friendship  of  Madame  Gohier,  a 
"lady  of  austere  virtue,"  wife  of  one  of  the  most 
influential  of  the  directors.  It  was  through  her 
intimacy  with  her  and  her  knowledge  of  the  plans 
of  the  Directory,  that  (it  has  been  conceded)  Bona- 
parte was  enabled  to  combat  and  overthrow  this 
same  Directory,  on  his  return  from  Egypt.  "This 
woman."  says  a  writer  of  repute,  "in  spite  of  her 
frivolous  appearance,  intrigued  like  an  experienced 
diplomatist.  .  .  .  Without  Josephine,  it  is  probable 
that  Bonaparte  would  never  have  become  Emperor. 
...  It  was  in  vain  that  he  told  her  not  to  talk 

*  "Memoires  et  Souvenirs,  ou  mes  Recapitulations." 


JOSEPHINE.  257 

politics,  or  meddle  with  affairs  ;  she  was  still  the 
most  efficient  aid  to  his  plans,  and  during  his  ab- 
sence she  prepared  the  field  on  which  he  was  to 
show  himself  master."  .  .  . 

Her  actions  were  misconstrued  ;  she  was  accused 
of  indiscretions,  of  levity  ;  nay  more,  of  infidelity 
to  her  husband.  These  reports  were  carried  to  the 
Bonaparte  family,  and  they,  being  jealous  of 
Josephine,  and  anxious  to  weaken  her  influence  with 
Napoleon,  not  only  gave  them  credence,  but  them- 
selves intrigued  against  her.  Her  name  was  men- 
tioned in  connection  with  that  of  a  young  man, 
Charles  Bottot,  Barras's  secretary,  who  had  presumed 
upon  her  kindness  to  him  at  Milan,  and  assumed  to 
be  the  result  of  more  than  ordinary  interest  what 
was  in  reality  nothing  but  her  universal  good-will, 
as  towards  all  who  came  within  her  sphere.  He  had 
been  despatched  by  the  Directory  as  a  spy  upon 
Bonaparte's  movements,  and  the  general,  suspecting 
this,  treated  him  with  severity.  It  was  not  on 
account  of  any  intimacy  with  his  wife,  at  that  time, 
but  merely  for  political  reasons,  that  Bonaparte 
meditated  his  arrest. 

"On  his  return  from  Italy,"  says  the  author  of 
the  Memoirs,  "  Bonaparte's  domestic  situation  gave 
him  some  uneasiness.  Josephine  had  kept  Bottot 
attached  to  her,  as  he  was  in  the  employ  of  Barras, 
and  knew  all  the  secrets  of  the  Directory.  .  .  .  But 
Madame  Bonaparte,  though  she  may  have  been  ex- 
ceedingly unsteady,  was  never  culpable.  On  his 
return,  as  she  had  invited  certain  persons  to  her 
17 


258  JOSEPHINE. 

house  whom  he  had  forbidden  her  to  see,  he  came 
to  an  open  rupture  with  her.  In  a  moment  of 
passion  he  drove  her  from  the  house,  and  gave  the 
most  positive  orders  that  she  was  not  to  be  re- 
admitted. In  despair,  she  sought  the  house  of  a 
friend,  Madame  de  Chateau-Renard,  who  finally 
succeeded  in  getting  her  back  unknown  to  Bona- 
parte, and  who  persuaded  him  to  show  himself  with 
his  wife  in  the  Bois  de  Bologne  that  afternoon,  and 
thus  stopped  the  scandal,  which  was  rapidly  spread- 
ing." 

Josephine  herself  says  :  "  This  man,  extraordinary 
in  everything,  was  of  a  furiously  jealous  disposition  ; 
often  and  much  did  I  suffer  from  his  suspicions.  I 
could  not  see,  I  could  not  receive  visits  from  any- 
body, without  being  subject  to  the  most  unfavorable 
interpretation.  ...  I  shall  always  remember  those 
journeys  to  Italy ;  never  shall  I  forget  the  tears  I 
shed." 

An  English  author,  whose  prejudices  would  not 
allow  him  to  take  a  liberal  view  of  Napoleon,  but 
whose  estimates  are  not  warped  to  the  extent  of 
condemning  all  with  whom  he  was  connected,  says 
of  Josephine  at  this  period  :  .  .  .  "She  is  generally 
charged  with  levity.  .  .  .  I  do  not  pretend  to  justify 
her  altogether  ;  but  she  was  skilful  enough  to  profit 
by  the  weakness  of  certain  generals,  to  attach  them 
more  thoroughly  to  her  husband's  cause.  .  .  .  She 
possessed  the  nicest  tact ;  her  address  was  incredible, 
especially  where  partisans  were  to  be  gained  for 
Bonaparte.  She  used  the  ladies  of  her  court  to  dis- 


JOSEPHINE.  259 

cern  the  most  secret  particulars.  ...  In  a  word, 
Bonaparte  was  never  so  prosperous,  and  so  well 
served,  as  during  the  years  he  spent  with  the  woman 
who  was  always  his  best  and  most  constant  friend. 
.  .  .  She  nattered  all  parties  (as  she  frankly  says 
in  her  memoirs),  and  while  she  truly  delighted  in 
works  of  benevolence  and  in  alleviating  sorrow,  she 
adroitly  drew  from  the  noblesse  of  the  ancienne 
regime  most  valued  and  hitherto  carefully  guarded 
secrets,  which  were  of  the  utmost  assistance  to 
Napoleon. 

"She  was  the  great  compensator  between  nobility 
and  people.  .  .  .  Bonaparte's  stay  in  Egypt  began 
to  weary  her,  for  she  really  loved  the  man,  although 
she  had  begun  to  experience  his  despotism.  She 
managed  his  interests  in  France,  and  prevented  a 
thousand  dangers  which  menaced  them.  Indeed,  it 
would  have  been  impossible  for  Napoleon  to  re-enter 
France,  had  not  an  attentive  and  vigilant  wife 
managed  to  avert  the  storm  which  was  already 
gathering  over  his  head  in  the  port  of  Frejus." 

These  quotations  show  us,  it  may  be  assumed,  the 
motive  of  Josephine  in  keeping  in  touch  with  mem- 
bers of  the  Directory.  There  may  have  been  some 
secret  reason,  and  there  may  have  been,  as  many 
have  alleged,  a  liaison  between  her  and  the  secre- 
tary of  Barras.  But,  with  all  respect  for  the  opinion 
of  those  who  have  made  this  matter  the  subject  of 
study,  and  without  presuming  to  assert  that  such 
an  event  could  not  have  transpired,  we  would  sub- 
mit that  it  was  extremely  unlikely.  There  was  no 


260  JOSEPHINE. 

motive  for  such  a  course,  either  in  the  circum- 
stances that  surrounded  her,  nor  in  her  own  inclina- 
tions. She  was  the  wife  of  the  most  famous  man 
of  his  times  ;  she  was  devotedly  loved  ;  there  had 
heen  no  rupture  between  them.  Her  nature,  while 
it  was  yielding,  still  was  not  passionate  ;  and  she 
was  no  longer  in  the  heyday  of  youth.  .  .  .  She  had, 
doubtless,  found  amusement  in  the  young  secretary, 
who  was  a  Parisian  of  the  type  known  as  the  jeunesse 
doree,  light  and  frivolous,  careless  and  enter- 
taining ;  and  she  did  have  reasons  that  seemed 
sufficient  to  her  for  attaching  him  to  her  society. 
It  is  not  denied  that  Josephine  was  vain,  that 
flattery  was  acceptable  to  her,  that  she  gratefully 
inhaled  the  incense  of  adulation.  In  sooth,  it  had 
become  necessary  to  her  existence,  after  having  been 
the  recipient  of  such  attentions  as  few  women  of 
her  time  had  experienced. 

But,  it  cannot  be  proven  that  she  was  criminally 
culpable.  Yet,  this  was  the  charge  made  against 
her,  in  Egypt,  and  which  Bonaparte  first  heard, 
from  Junot,  during  the  ill-fated  Syrian  expedition. 
Bourrienne,  who  was  most  intimate  with  Napoleon 
during  the  Egyptian  campaign,  has  left  us  a  vivid 
narrative  of  this  affair,  which  took  place  in  February, 
1799.  "  Whilst  near  the  wells  of  Messoudiah,  on 
our  way  to  El-Arish,  I  one  day  saw  Bonaparte 
walking  along  with  Junot,  as  he  was  often  in  the 
habit  of  doing.  .  .  .  The  General's  countenance, 
which  was  always  pale,  had,  without  my  being  able 
to  divine  the  cause,  become  paler  than  usual. 


JOSEPHINE.  261 

There  was  something  convulsive  in  his  features — a 
wildness  in  his  look,  and  he  several  times  struck  his 
head  with  his  hand.  After  conversing  with  Junot 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  he  quitted  him  and  came 
towards  me.  ...  I  advanced  towards  him,  and  as 
soon  as  we  met  he  exclaimed,  in  an  abrupt  and 
angry  tone,  '  So,  I  find  I  cannot  depend  upon  you.— 
These  women — Josephine  !  If  you  had  loved  me 
you  would  before  this  have  told  me  all  I  have  heard 
from  Junot.  He  is  a  real  friend. — Josephine  ! — And 
I  six  hundred  leagues  from  her. — You  ought  to  have 
told  me. — That  she  should  have  thus  deceived  me  !— 
Woe  to  them  !  I  will  exterminate  the  whole  race 
of  fops  and  puppies.  As  to  her  :  divorce  ;  yes, 
divorce  !  A  public  and  open  divorce  ;  I  must  write. 
—I  know  all. — It  is  your  fault. — You  ought  to 
have  told  me  ! '  These  energetic  and  broken  ex- 
clamations, his  disturbed  countenance  and  altered 
voice,  informed  me  but  too  well  of  the  subject  of 
his  conversation  with  Junot.  I  saw  that  Junot 
had  been  drawn  into  a  culpable  indiscretion,  and 
that  if  Josephine  had  committed  any  faults  he  had 
cruelly  exaggerated  them.  .  .  .  My  situation  was 
one  of  extreme  delicacy,  but,  as  some  degree  of 
calmness  succeeded  to  this  first  burst,  I  replied  that 
I  knew  nothing  of  the  reports.  ...  I  begged  him 
to  consider  with  what  facility  tales  were  fabricated 
and  circulated,  and  that  gossip  such  as  that  which 
had  been  repeated  to  him  was  only  the  amusement 
of  idle  persons,  and  deserves  the  contempt  of  strong 
minds.  I  spoke  of  his  glory.  .  .  . 


262  JOSEPHINE. 

"  '  My  glory,'  cried  he.  '  I  know  not  what  I  would 
not  give,  if  that  which  Junot  has  told  me  should  be 
untrue  ;  so  much  do  I  love  Josephine.  If  she  be 
really  guilty  a  divorce  must  separate  us  forever.  I 
will  not  submit  to  be  the  laughing-stock  of  all  the 
imbeciles  of  Paris.  I  will  write  to  Joseph ;  he  will 
get  the  divorce  declared.'  "* 

He  wrote  to  his  brother  Joseph,  a  letter  full  of 
dolor  and  complaints,  beginning  "  J'ai  beaucoup  de 
chagrins  domestiques,"  and  alluding,  in  veiled  terms, 
to  the  passing  of  his  love  for  glory,  his  disappoint- 
ments, and  ennui. 

It  has  been  declared,  by  writers  inimical  to  Jose- 
phine, that  the  "  idea  of  divorce  germinated  in  the 
hour  when  his  eyes  were  unsealed  and  the  illusion 
under  which  he  had  lived  was  dispelled,"  namely, 
in  Egypt,  at  the  receipt  of  this  report  of  his  wife's 
alleged  infidelity.  It  has  also  been  claimed  that 
Napoleon  himself  was  true  to  his  wife  until  this 
report  was  received  ;  that  this  news  caused  him  to 
turn  to  another  for  that  consolation  which  was 
denied  him  in  the  bosom  of  his  family.  But  this 
also  is  untrue,  for  his  own  acts  of  infidelity  antedate 
the  receipt  of  this  information.  It  is  no  secret  that 
he  had  already  carried  on  an  open  amour  with  the 
pretty  wife  of  an  officer  of  his  command,  and  of 
whom  he  seemed  deeply  enamored.  He  did  not 
need  as  an  excuse  the  indiscretions  of  his  wife,  as 
reported  to  him  by  a  pretended  friend,  and  which 

*  For  another  version  of  this  affair,   see  the   "  Memoirs  of  the 
Duchess  d'Abrantes,"  the  wife  of  Junot. 


JOSEPHINE.  263 

Bonaparte  was  himself  slow  to  believe.  This  amour 
was  begun  in  September  of  the  year  previous,  as 
Bourrienne  relates,  and  other  writers  have  con- 
firmed. "About  the  middle  of  September  of  this 
year  (1798),  Bonaparte  ordered  to  be  brought  to  the 
house  of  Elfy  Bey  half-a-dozen  Asiatic  women, 
whose  beauty  he  had  heard  highly  extolled ;  but 
their  ungraceful  obesity  displeased  him,  and  they 
were  immediately  dismissed.  A  few  days  after  he 
fell  violently  in  love  with  Madame  Foures,  the  wife 
of  a  lieutenant  of  infantry.  She  was  pretty,  and 
her  charms  were  enhanced  by  the  rarity  of  seeing  a 
woman  in  Egypt  who  was  calculated  to  please  the 
eye  of  a  European.  Bonaparte  engaged  a  house  for 
her  adjoining  the  palace.  He  frequently  ordered 
dinner  to  be  prepared  there,  and  I  used  to  go  there 
with  him  at  seven  o'clock,  and  leave  him  at  nine.  .  .  . 
This  connection  soon  became  the  general  subject  of 
gossip  at  headquarters.  Through  a  feeling  of  deli- 
cacy to  M.  Foures,  the  General-in-Chief  gave  him  a 
mission  to  the  Directory.  He  embarked  at  Alexan- 
dria and  the  ship  was  captured  by  the  English,  who, 
being  informed  of  the  cause  of  his  mission,  were 
malicious  enough  to  send  him  back  to  Egypt,  instead 
of  keeping  him  prisoner."  * 

*  The  Duchesse  d'  Abrantes  confirms  in  every  particular  the  story  nar- 
rated by  Bourrienne  of  the  amour  between  Bonaparte  and  Mme. 
Foures  ;  she  appears  to  think  it  was  an  honest  love,  and  treats 
lightly  the  feelings  of  the  injured  husband,  as  though  it  were  the 
best  joke  in  the  world.  The  woman,  too,  has  her  sympathy  ;  but 
this  may  be  expected  from  one  who  writes  so  lightly  of  the  ante-nup- 


264  JOSEPHINE. 

Were  not  this  lamentable  episode  so  well  authen- 
ticated, we  should  hesitate  to  accept  this  statement, 
implicating  in  a  disgraceful  amour  one  who  so  re- 
cently was  absorbed  in  a  pure  and  ardent  passion.  It 
were  futile  to  inquire  the  cause  of  this  defection  ;  it 
were  worse  than  foolish  to  ascribe  it  to  the  actions 
of  the  one  he  so  truly  loved. 

Among  the  many  letters  ascribed  to  Josephine  is 
one  that  bears  every  evidence  of  authenticity,  in 
style  and  sentiment.  It  was  written  after  the 
receipt  of  Napoleon's  accusation,  and  goes  far  to  set 
her  right  in  the  opinion  of  honest  and  disinterested 
individuals.  .  .  .  "Can  it  be  possible,  my  friend; 
is  the  letter  indeed  yours,  which  I  have  just  received  ? 
Scarcely  can  I  give  it  credit,  on  comparison  with 
those  others  now  before  me,  and  to  which  your  love 
gave  so  many  charms.  But  my  eyes  cannot  doubt 
that  those  pages  which  rend  my  heart  are  too  surely 
yours  ;  though  my  soul  refuses  to  admit  that  yours 
could  have  dictated  those  lines,  which,  to  the  ardent 
joy  experienced  on  hearing  from  you,  have  caused 
to  succeed  the  mortal  grief  of  reading  the  expres- 
sions of  displeasure,  the  more  afflicting  to  me  that 
it  must  have  proved  a  source  of  anguish  to  you. 

"  I  am  wholly  ignorant  in  what  I  have  offended,  to 
create  an  enemy  so  determined  to  ruin  my  repose  by 
interrupting  yours  ;  but  surely,  it  must  be  a  grave 

tial  amours  and  "natural  child"  of  her  own  husband;  and  the 
obtuseness  or  moral  obliquity  that  sees  only  with  amazement  Jose- 
phine's natural  indignation  at  Junot's  flirtation  with  her  own  maid, 
before  her  face. 


JOSEPHINE.  265 

reason  which  can  thus  induce  some  one  unceasingly 
to  renew  against  me  calumnies  of  such  a  specious 
nature  as  to  be  admitted,  even  for  a  moment,  by  one 
who  hitherto  has  deemed  me  worthy  of  his  entire 
affection  and  confidence.  These  sentiments  are 
necessary  to  my  happiness  ;  and  if  they  are  so  soon 
to  be  refused  me,  ah,  why  was  I  ever  made  sensible 
of  the  delight  of  possessing  them  ?  Far  better  would 
it  have  been  for  me  never  to  have  known  you. 
When  I  first  became  acquainted  with  you,  over- 
whelmed in  sadness  by  the  sorrows  that  had  over- 
taken me,  I  believed  it  impossible  that  I  should  ever 
again  feel  a  sentiment  approaching  to  love.  The 
scenes  of  blood  I  had  witnessed,  and  whose  victim  I 
became,  pursued  me  everywhere.  Such  were  the 
causes  that  prevented  apprehension  in  often  meeting 
you  :  little  did  I  imagine  that  I  could  for  a  single 
instant  fix  your  choice.  In  common  with  all  the 
world  I  admired  your  genius  and  your  talents  ;  more 
truly  than  others  did  I  foresee  your  coming  glory  ; 
but,  notwithstanding  all  this,  I  was  unmoved,  lov- 
ing you  only  for  the  services  you  had  rendered  to 
my  country.  You  should  have  left  me  to  cherish 
this  admiration,  and  not  sought  to  have  rendered 
it  impassioned,  by  employing  those  means  of  pleas- 
ing which  you  above  all  men  possess,  if  so  soon  after 
having  united  your  destiny  to  mine,  you  were  to  re- 
gret the  felicity  which  you  alone  had  taught  me  to 
enjoy. 

"  Do  you  believe  it  possible  for  me  ever  to  forget 
your  cares  and  your  love  ?    Think  you  I  can  ever 


266  JOSEPHINE. 

become  indifferent  to  one  who  sweetens  existence  by 
all  that  is  delightful  in  passion  ? 

"Can  I  ever  efface  from  my  memory  your  kindness 
to  Hortense,  your  counsel  and  example  to  Eugene  ? 
If  this  appear  to  you  impossible,  how  can  you 
suspect  me  of  being  interested,  for  a  single  moment, 
in  what  is  alien  to  you.  Oh,  my  friend,  in  place  of 
lending  ear  to  imposters,  who,  from  motives  which  I 
cannot  explain,  seek  to  ruin  our  happiness,  why  do 
you  not  rather  reduce  them  to  silence,  by  a  recital 
of  your  benefits  to  a  woman  whose  character  has 
never  incurred  the  suspicion  of  ingratitude  ?  On 
hearing  what  you  have  done  for  my  children,  my 
traducers  would  be  silent,  since  they  must  know 
that  as  a  mother  I  first  became  attached  to  you.  .  .  . 
Since  that  event,  your  conduct,  admired  as  it  has 
been  throughout  the  whole  of  Europe,  has,  in  my 
heart,  but  awakened  deeper  adoration  of  the  hus- 
band who  made  choice  of  me,  poor  as  I  was,  and 
unhappy.  Every  step  which  you  take  but  adds  to 
the  splendor  of  the  name  I  bear — and  is  such  a 
moment  to  be  seized  to  persuade  you  that  I  no  longer 
love  you  ?  .  .  .  Yes,  my  friend,  I  love  you  with  a 
sincerity  well  known,  even  to  those  who  assert  the 
contrary.  .  .  . 

"It  is  true  I  see  much  company,  for  every  one 
strives  to  be  foremost  in  complimenting  me  on  your 
successes,  and  I  confess  I  have  not  the  resolution  to 
shut  my  doors  against  any  one  who  comes  to  speak 
of  you.  My  male  visitors  are  very  numerous  ;  they 
comprehend  your  daring  achievements  better  than 


JOSEPHINE.  267 

women.  .  .  .  Women  fail  upon  these  subjects,  and 
when  they  do  not  praise  you  they  do  not  please 
me.  .  .  .  Still,  it  is  among  my  own  sex  that  I  can 
find  those  whose  heart  and  understanding  I  prefer 
to  all,  because  their  friendship  for  you  is  sincere. 
Of  these  I  place  first  the  names  of  Mmes.  d'Aiguil- 
lon,  Tallien,  and  my  aunt.  These  are  my  intimates, 
and  they  will  tell  you,  ungrateful  as  thou  art,  if  I 
have  thought  of  '  playing  the  coquette  with  all  the 
world.'  These  are  your  own  expressions,  and  they 
would  be  odious  to  me,  were  I  not  certain  that  you 
had  disavowed,  and  at  this  moment  are  sorry  for 
having  written  them. 

"  I  tremble  when  I  think  of  the  dangers  that  sur- 
round you,  of  more  than  half  of  which  I  should  be 
ignorant,  did  not  Eugene  reiterate  his  requests  to 
me  to  write  you  not  to  expose  yourself  to  perils, 
and  to  take  more  care  of  a  life  not  only  dear  to  your 
family  and  your  friends,  but  upon  which  hangs  the 
destiny  of  your  brethren  in  arms,  and  thousands  of 
brave  followers  who  could  have  courage  to  endure 
so  many  fatigues  while  under  your  eye  alone.  .  .  . 

"  Here  I  receive  honors  which  sometimes  cause  me 
embarrassment ;  for,  I  see  they  displease  our  au- 
thorities, who,  always  distrustful  and  apprehensive 
of  losing  their  power,  are  ever  on  the  watch.  Dis- 
regard these  people,  you  will  say  ;  but,  my  friend, 
they  will  endeavor  to  hurt  you  ;  they  will  accuse 
you  of  seeking  to  lessen  their  power  ;  and  I  should 
grieve  to  contribute  in  aught  to  a  jealousy  which 
your  triumphs  sufficiently  justify.  When  you  shall 


268  JOSEPHINE. 

return,  covered  with  laurels,  good  heavens  !  what 
will  they  not  do,  if  already  they  are  on  the  rack  ?  I 
cannot  calculate  where  their  resentment  will  stop  ; 
but  then  you  will  be  by  my  side,  and  I  shall  feel 
secure.  .  .  . 

"I  am  ever  thinking  of  you;  now  transporting 
myself  to  the  time  when  I  shall  see  you  every  hour  ; 
now  plunged  in  sorrow  at  the  thought  of  the  space 
which  must  elapse  before  your  return  ;  and  when  I 
thus  conclude,  I  begin  again.  Are  these  the  signs 
of  indifference  ? 

"  I  wish  for  none  others  on  your  part ;  and  if  you 
feel  thus  for  me,  I  shall  not  think  myself  altogether 
an  object  of  pity,  despite  the  small  slanders  which 
they  would  fain  have  me  credit  respecting  a  certain 
fair  one,  who,  they  tell  me,  interests  you  deeply. 

"  Why  should  I  doubt  you  ?  You  assure  me  I  am 
beloved.  I  judge  of  you  by  my  own  heart, — and  I 
believe  you. 

"  God  knows  when  or  where  this  letter  may  reach 
you  ;  may  it  restore  to  you  a  repose  which  you  ought 
never  to  have  foregone  ;  and  more  than  ever  give 
you  an  assurance  that,  while  I  live,  you  will  be  dear 
to  me  as  on  the  day  of  our  last  separation. 

"  Farewell,  my  only  friend.  Confide  in  me — love 
me — and  receive  a  thousand  tender  caresses." 

"JOSEPHINE." 

If  this  letter  reached  Bonaparte,  it  is  doubtful  if 
he  could  after  that  have  any  credence  in  the  accusa- 
tion. But  when,  like  a  thunderbolt,  he  launched 


JOSEPHINE.  269 

himself  upon  the  coast  of  France  ;  when  the  news 
reached  Josephine  that  he  had  landed  at  Frejus, 
she  was  alarmed,  and  justly.  Not  that  she  had 
been  untrue  to  him  ;  but  because  she  was  aware  of 
the  enmity  of  his  brothers,  and  wished  to  see  him 
before  they  should  poison  his  mind  afresh.  She 
hastened  to  meet  him,  missed  him  en  route,  and  re- 
turned to  their  home  to  find  his  door  barred  against 
her. 


270  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  CONSULATE. 

IT  was  in  March,  1799,  that  Louis  Bonaparte  re- 
turned to  France  bringing  from  Egypt  good  news  for 
Josephine,  of  Napoleon  and  her  son  Eugene.  She 
had  good  reason  to  feel  proud  of  her  son,  for  he 
had  borne  himself  in  a  manner  creditable  to  himself 
and  to  his  family,  as  the  son  of  the  Viscount  de 
Beauharnais,  and  the  step-son  of  the  great  Bona- 
parte. He  had  himself  taken  one  of  the  five  flags 
captured  at  Malta  ;  he  was  at  Bonaparte's  side  at  the 
entry  into  A]exandria  ;  took  an  active  part  in  the 
battle  of  the  Pyramids  ;  and  risked  his  life  in  Cairo. 
In  the  Suez  expedition  the  advance  guard  was  en- 
trusted to  him,  and  when,  on  the  return,  a  lieuten- 
ant's epaulet  was  given  him,  he  was  but  eighteen 
years  of  age.  He  was  complimented  by  General 
Berthier,  at  the  same  time,  for  his  bravery  and 
prudence.  On  the  ill-starred  Syrian  expedition  he 
made  several  perilous  reconnoissances,  and  was  the 
only  officer  in  the  army  who  penetrated  the  Arab 
lines  in  the  valley  of  Jerusalem  and  obtained  a 
glimpse  of  the  Holy  City.  During  the  siege  of  Acre 
he  was  stunned  by  the  bursting  of  a  bomb,  and  Bona- 


JOSEPHINE.  271 

parte,  who  was  near  him,  gave  utterance  to  a  cry  of 
grief  and  alarm,  believing  him  killed.  Of  the  eight 
aides-de-camp  on  Bonaparte's  staff  in  Egypt,  four 
were  killed,  and  two  were  wounded.  Eugene 
ever  bore  himself  with  a  modest  air,  always  gay 
and  cheerful ;  he  felt  for  his  glorious  chief  an 
affection  that  never  changed,  a  devotion  that 
never  faltered ;  and  Bonaparte,  on  his  side,  was 
deeply  attached  to  him. 

At  last, — "  Eugene,  you  are  going  to  see  your 
mother."  The  boy's  heart  leaped  with  joy;  this 
was  the  news  that  for  long  months  he  had  anxiously 
awaited.  He  had  heard  the  evil  reports  from  France ; 
it  is  said  that  Napoleon  had  talked  with  him  of  the 
alleged  infidelity  of  his  mother  ;  but,  while  still  loyal 
to  his  General,  to  his  step- father,  he  yet  defended 
his  mother,  with  a  boy's  belief  in  her  innocence. 
He  was  sure  that  it  was  only  necessary  to  bring 
them  together,  these  two,  whom  he  loved  with  all 
his  soul,  to  effect  a  complete  reconciliation. 

Says  Bourrienne.  .  .  .  "  The  catastrophe  of  Abou- 
kir  came  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the  General-in- 
Chief.  In  spite  of  all  his  energy  and  fortitude  he 
was  deeply  distressed  by  the  disasters  which  now 
assailed  him.  To  the  painful  feelings  excited  by  the 
complaints  and  dejection  of  hiscompanions-in-arms, 
was  now  added  the  irreparable  misfortune  of  the 
burning  of  the  fleet.  He  measured  the  fatal  con- 
sequences of  this  event  at  a  single  glance.  We  were 
now  cut  off  from  all  communication  with  France, 
and  all  hope  of  returning  thither  except  by  a  degrad- 


272  JOSEPHINE. 

ing  capitulation  with  an  implacable  and  hated 
enemy.  Bonaparte  had  lost  all  chance  of  preserving 
his  conquest,  and  to  him  this  was  indeed  a  bitter 
reflection.  And  at  what  time  did  this  disaster  be- 
fall him  ?  At  the  very  moment  when  he  was  about 
to  apply  for  the  aid  of  the  mother  country. 

"  The  imprudent  communications  of  Junot  at  the 
fountains  of  Messoudiah  will  be  remembered  ;  but 
after  the  first  ebullition  of  jealous  rage  all  traces 
of  that  feeling  had  apparently  disappeared.  Bona- 
parte, however,  was  still  harassed  by  secret  suspi- 
cion. .  .  .  We  reached  the  capital  before  Josephine 
returned.  The  recollection  of  the  past,  the  ill- 
natured  reports  of  his  brothers,  and  the  exaggera- 
tion of  facts,  had  irritated  Napoleon  to  the  very 
highest  pitch,  and  he  received  Josephine  with 
studied  coldness,  and  with  an  air  of  the  most  cruel 
indifference.  He  had  no  communication  with  her 
for  three  days.  .  .  .  Reflection,  seconded  by  his 
ardent  affection  for  Josephine,  brought  about  a 
complete  reconciliation.  After  these  three  days  of 
conjugal  misunderstanding  their  happiness  was 
never  afterwards  disturbed  by  a  similar  cause." 

Having  landed  at  Frejus,  Bonaparte's  journey 
from  that  port  to  Paris  was  an  uninterrupted  series 
of  ovations,  and  the  16th  of  October  he  entered  the 
capital  to  the  cries  of  "Long  live  the  Liberator  of 
France  1 " 

When,  two  days  later,  Josephine  arrived  from 
her  fruitless  journey,  she  found  herself  debarred  his 
presence.  All  through  the  night  she  lay  prostrate 


JOSEPHINE.  273 

before  his  chamber  door  ;  but  Bonaparte  was  obdu- 
rate ;  only  finally  relenting  when  Eugene  and  Hor- 
tense,  whom  he  so  dearly  loved,  joined  their  plead- 
ings to  hers. 

Whatever  the  cause  her  husband  may  have 
thought  he  had  for  his  cruel  course,  or  from  what- 
ever reason  he  relented,  his  forgiveness  was  full 
and  unquestioning.  When  his  brothers  came,  next 
morning,  to  urge  their  reasons  for  a  separation 
from  his  wife,  they  found  the  couple  reunited  and 
in  full  accord.  From  that  time,  to  the  end  of  their 
relations  as  man  and  wife,  Josephine  (even  her  de- 
tractors admit)  led  a  life  against  which  no  one 
could  urge  any  complaint  of  indiscretion,  even.  As 
the  wife  of  the  Consul  she  was  irreproachable. 

Bonaparte  forgave,  and  as  well  he  forgot ;  that 
was  a  noble  trait  of  his  character.*  The  double 
standard  of  morals  :  one  law  for  woman  and 


"*  Madame  Bonaparte  was  a  prey  to  great  and  well-founded  uneasi- 
ness. Whether  she  was  guilty  or  only  imprudent,  she  was  strongly 
accused  by  the  Bonaparte  family,  who  were  desirous  that  Bonaparte 
should  obtain  a  divorce.  .  .  .  Madame  Bonaparte  committed  a  great 
fault  in  neglecting  at  this  juncture  to  conciliate  her  mother-in-law, 
who  might  have  protected  her  against  those  who  sought  her  ruin, 
and  effected  it  nine  years  later.  .  .  .  Bonaparte,  on  his  arrival  in 
Paris  found  his  house  deserted  ;  but  his  mother,  sisters  and  sisters- 
in-law,  in  fact  every  member  of  his  family  except  Louis,  who  had 
attended  Madame  Bonaparte  to  Lyons,  came  to  him  immediately. 
The  impression  made  upon  him  by  the  solitude  of  his  home  and 
its  desertion  by  its  mistress  was  profound  and  terrible.  .  .  .  From 
not  finding  her  with  his  family,  he  inferred  that  she  felt  herself  un- 
worthy of  their  presence,  and  feared  to  meet  the  man  she  had 
wronged." — DUCHESSE  D'ABBANTES. 
18 


274  JOSEPHINE. 

another  for  man,  prevailed  in  France  at  that  time 
as  it  does  to-day.  Although  Bonaparte  was  priv- 
ileged to  reproach,  to  accuse,  and  finally  to  mag- 
nanimously forgive,  the  wife  must  not  only  close  her 
eyes  to  his  own  infidelities,  but  must  again  submit 
to  be  a  victim  of  them.  Egypt  was  of  the  past ; 
but  other  Cleopatras  were  to  be  forthcoming.  It 
was  not  long,  in  sooth,  before  Napoleon  was  indulg- 
ing in  a  temporary  passion  for  an  Italian  singer,  of 
whom  he  soon  tired,  and  who,  some  years  later, 
"deployed  her  charms  for  the  Duke  of  Wellington." 

Through  Josephine,  Bonaparte  had  hoped  to  draw 
about  him  the  old  nobility  of  France,  and  as  well  to 
cause  disaffection  in  the  ranks  of  the  Eepublicans. 
To  a  great  extent,  she  was  of  service  in  this  re- 
spect ;  though,  as  he  later  saw  and  admitted,  he 
greatly  overestimated  her  prospective  influence  and 
her  former  standing  with  the  noblesse.  ' '  Josephine 
was  well  qualified  to  play  this  role  ;  she  had  the 
necessary  ease,  eloquence,  and  grace  of  manner  ;  was 
exceptionally  tactful  in  bestowing  a  gift  or  favor, 
and  had  a  charming  fashion  of  receiving  people,  ap- 
pearing at  ease  in  every  assemblage."  But  her  rev- 
olutionary affiliations  were  at  first  a  drawback  to 
her  influence  with  the  nobility  ;  all  her  life,  indeed, 
and  after  her  death  her  memory,  was  clouded  by 
those  "  revolutionary  affiliations."  It  was  immedi- 
ately after  their  reconciliation,  that  Bonaparte  re- 
ceived the  most  signal  proof  of  her  affectionate 
interest  in  his  welfare  and  her  influence  in  promot- 


JOSEPHINE.  275 

ing  his  vast  schemes  for  aggrandizement.  It  is  well 
known  that  his  return  to  France  was  in  the  further- 
ance of  his  determination  to  overthrow  the  Direct- 
ory and  establish  himself  in  power  as  Dictator.  It 
was  not  long  before  this  was  accomplished  ;  less 
than  three  weeks  elapsed  between  the  time  of  his 
landing  at  Frejus  and  his  elevation  to  the  supreme 
command.  And  it  was  in  this  overthrow  of  the 
Directory,  that  the  assistance  of  his  wife  was  in- 
valuable ;  nay,  more,  without  it,  some  of  the  ablest 
historians  of  France  have  declared,  he  could  not 
have  succeeded.  Josephine  proved  to  him,  then,  that 
the  intercourse  she  had  so  persistently  maintained 
with  the  members  of  the  Directory  (and  which  was 
the  chiefest  of  the  accusations  against  her),  was 
entirely  in  his  interest ;  while  he  was  absent  in 
Egypt  she  had,  with  a  prescience  that  must  have 
come  from  intuition,  kept  in  touch  with  his  enemies, 
and  had  learned  not  only  all  their  plans,  but  had 
conceived  means  of  thwarting  them.  No  sooner 
had  the  kiss  of  reconciliation  sealed  their  pact  of 
mutual  confidence,  than  she  unfolded  to  her  lord 
the  information  she  had  gained,  during  those  long 
days  of  separation,  when  she  was  in  semi-seclusion 
at  Malmaison.  Bonaparte  was  astonished,  de- 
lighted ;  perchance  remorseful,  when  he  thought  of 
the  injustice  he  had  done  her  ;  on  the  part  of  Jose- 
phine was  naught  but  joy  and  purest  self-abnega- 
tion. "  Madame  Bonaparte,"  says  a  contemporary, 
"was  always  of  service  to  Bonaparte  in  his  relations 
with  the  men  of  whom  he  wanted  to  make  use. 


276  JOSEPHINE. 

She  fascinated  every  one  who  came  near  her,  by 
her  exquisite  grace  and  charming  courtesy.  .  .  . 
She  was  to  exercise  direct  influence  on  the  victims 
and  accomplices  of  the  coup-d'etat — on  Barras, 
Gohier,  Sieyes,  Fouche,  Moreau,  and  Talleyrand." 

And  says  General  Segur  :  "  Nothing  was  con- 
cealed from  her.  In  every  conference  at  which  she 
was  present,  her  discretion,  gentleness,  grace,  and 
the  ready  ingenuity  of  her  delicate  and  cool  intelli- 
gence, were  of  the  greatest  service.  She  justified 
Bonaparte's  renewed  confidence  in  her."  As  con- 
firmatory of  this  assertion  of  her  assistance  in  the 
weaving  of  the  web  around  the  doomed  Directors, 
her  letter  to  the  incorruptible  Gohier  will  be  given. 
It  was  but  a  part  of  Bonaparte's  scheme,  to  draw 
Gohier  away  from  his  allegiance.  .  .  . 

"  17th  Brumaire,  Tear  VIII. 

"My  DEAR  GOHIER. 

"Will  not  you  and  your  wife  breakfast  with  us 
to-morrow,  at  eight  ?  Do  not  fail  us ;  there  are  a 
good  many  interesting  things  I  should  like  to  talk 
to  you  about. 

"  Good-bye,  my  dear  Gohier." 

"  Believe  me,  always, 

"  Sincerely  yours, 
"  LA-PAGERIE  BONAPARTE." 

Madame  Gohier  went,  saw  the  trap,  returned  to 
warn  her  husband — but  was  too  late.  That  was 
on  the  eventful  morning  of  the  18th  Brumaire,  the 


JOSEPHINE.  277' 

events  of  which  changed  the  destinies  of  France, 
gave  into  the  hands  of  Napoleon  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment, bestowed  upon  him  the  power  that  eventually 
made  him  master  of  all  France.  The  particulars  of 
the  fateful  overturn  are  part  of  the  history  of 
France.  The  event  was  a  pivotal  point  in  the  fort- 
unes of  Bonaparte,  in  the  destinies  of  France,  of 
Europe,  of  the  world. 

Bonaparte  had  indignantly  demanded  of  the  rec- 
reant rulers  of  the  Republic  :  "  What  have  you  done 
with  that  France  which  I  left  so  splendid  ?  I  left 
you  peace,  and  find  you  at  war  ;  I  left  you  victory, 
and  I  find  defeats  ;  I  left  you  the  spoils  of  Italy, 
and  I  find  everywhere  oppression  and  misery.  What 
have  you  done  with  the  hundred  thousand  French- 
men, whom  you  knew,  and  all  of  them  my  com- 
panions in  glory  ? " 

"  The  parts  of  the  great  drama  which  was  to  be 
enacted  were  well  distributed,"  says  his  secretary, 
Bourrienne.  "  During  the  three  days  preceding  the 
18th,  everybody  was  at  his  post.  Lucien,  with  equal 
activity  and  intelligence,  forwarded  the  conspiracy 
in  the  two  councils.  Sieyes  had  the  management 
of  the  Directory.  .  .  .  There  was  no  time  to  lose  ; 
and  Fouche  said  to  me,  on  the  fourteenth,  '  Tell  your 
General  to  be  speedy  ;  if  he  delays  he  is  lost.' ' 

He  did  not  delay  ;  the  morning  of  the  18th  found 
him  in  peril,  in  the  midst  of  enemies  ;  the  close  of 
day  saw  him  combating  them  with  prospect  of  suc- 
cess ;  the  night  witnessed  his  triumph. 

"  At  three  in  the  morning  I  accompanied  Bona- 


278  JOSEPHINE. 

parte  in  his  carriage  to  Paris.  He  was  extremely 
fatigued,  after  so  many  trials.  A  new  future  was 
opened  before  him  ;  this  thought  completely  ab- 
sorbed him,  and  he  did  not  utter  a  single  word  during 
the  journey.  But  when  he  arrived  at  his  house  in 
the  Rue  de  la  Victoire,  he  had  no  sooner  entered  his 
chamber  and  wished  good-morning  to  Josephine,  who 
was  in  bed,  and  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  anxiety, 
than  he  said,  before  her  :  '  Bourrienne,  I  said  many 
ridiculous  things?'  'Not  so  very  bad,  General.' 
'  I  like  better  to  speak  to  soldiers  than  to  lawyers. 
Those  fellows  disconcerted  me.  I  have  not  been 
used  to  public  assemblies  ;  but  that  will  come  in 
time.' 

"Back  in  the  little  house  in  the  Eue  de  la  Vic- 
toire— where  he  was  married,  whence  he  had  started 
for  Italy  and  Egypt,  whither  he  had  always  re- 
turned victorious — he  kissed  Josephine,  and  told 
her  all  the  incidents  of  the  day.  Then  he  rested  for 
a  few  hours,  and  woke  up  in  the  morning,  the  master 
of  Paris  and  of  France." 

The  coap-d'etat  was  accomplished  on  the  9th 
and  10th  of  October,  1799  :  a  provisionary  consulate 
was  formed,  consisting  of  Bonaparte,  Sieyes,  and 
Roger  Ducos,  who  took  the  place  of  the  old  Direc- 
tory. The  General  and  his  wife  soon  established 
themselves  in  the  Luxembourg,  where  first  Jose- 
phine experienced  that  homage  of  the  people  which 
ended  only  with  her  death.  "It  was  at  the  Luxem- 
bourg, in  the  salons  of  which  the  adorable  Josephine 
so  well  performed  the  honors,  that  the  word  Madame 


JOSEPHINE.  279 

came  again  into  use.  This  first  return  to  the  old 
French  politeness  was  startling  to  some  susceptible 
republicans  ;  but  things  were  carried  farther  at  the 
Tuileries  by  the  introduction  of  Votre  Altesse,  on 
occasions  of  state  and  ceremony,  and  Monseigneur 
in  the  family  circle." 

A  change  was  to  occur,  and  the  pliant  Josephine 
was  selected  by  her  husband  to  assist  him  in  bringing 
it  about.  Most  ably  she  assisted  him,  and  without 
her  he  would  not  have  been  capable  of  effecting  it. 
Stern  republicanism  was  to  bow  before  the  innovat- 
ing customs  of  the  ancient  court,  and  Paris  was  to 
experience  a  recrudescence  of-  royalty  ;  not  at  first 
in  name,  but  in  essence.  Bonaparte,  if  we  may 
accept  the  statements  of  his  secretary,  entertained 
a  profound  dislike  of  the  sanguinary  men  of  the 
Revolution,  and  especially  of  the  regicides ;  while 
Josephine's  inclinations  were  ever  towards  royalty. 
The  new  "  Constitution  of  the  year  VIII."  was  soon 
promulgated  ;  in  December  Bonaparte  was  declared 
First  Consul  with  Cambaceres  second  and  Lebrun 
third.  The  end  of  this  eventful  century,  the  last 
decade  of  which  had  been  steeped  in  blood,  had  com- 
prised the  most  horrible  chapter  in  French  history, 
found  a  strong  hand  at  the  helm  of  power  and  prom- 
ised a  return  of  long-lost  prosperity.  Napoleon's 
speech  to  the  Council  of  the  Ancients,  on  the  9th 
of  November,  '99,  presaged  a  recurrence  of  happier 
days  to  this  distracted  country  :  .  .  "  Let  us  not  seek 
in  the  past  examples  that  may  retard  our  prog- 
ress. Nothing  in  history  resembles  the  close  of  the 


280  JOSEPHINE. 

«< 

eighteenth  century ;  nothing  in  the  close  of  the 
eighteenth  century  resembles  the  present  moment ! 
We  demand  a  Republic,  founded  upon  true  liberty. 
We  will  have  it, — I  swear  it ! " 

The  Tuileries  was  assigned  to  the  First  Consul  as 
a  place  of  residence,  and  on  the  18th  of  February, 
1800,  the  transfer  was  effected  in  great  state,  from 
the  Luxembourg  to  that  palace  which  had  been  the 
abode  of  Louis  XVI.  and  his  queen.  Upon  its 
walls  the  word  "  Republic"  was  written,  that  the 
people  might  not  take  alarm  at  the  prospect  of  their 
Consul  dwelling  in  a  royal  residence,  yet,  at  the  very 
first  reception  held  there  was  visible  the  difference 
between  republican  simplicity  and  monarchical 
etiquette. 

After  the  grand  procession  to  the  Tuileries,  Bona- 
parte mounted  his  horse  and  reviewed  the  troops. 
Josephine  and  her  friends,  who  already  constituted 
a  little  court  about  her,  viewing  the  spectacle  from 
the  windows  of  the  palace.  That  evening,  at  the 
banquet  and  the  grand  reception,  the  most  beautiful 
women,  the  most  famous  men,  assembled  to  do 
homage  to  the  conqueror  of  France  and  his  consort. 
It  was  a  veritable  court  presentation,  and  a  good 
beginning  of  the  road  to  royalty.  Josephine,  as 
usual,  charmed  all  who  saw  her  by  her  grace  and 
affability,  from  the  moment  she  appeared,  leaning 
on  the  arm  of  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  to  the 
moment  of  her  departure,  after  an  unexampled 
triumph  over  the  prejudices  and  passions  of  that 
mixed  assemblage,  where  republicanism  for  the  first 


JOSEPHINE.  281 

time  came  into  close  contact  with  the  ancient  no- 
bility. 

"Mme.  Bonaparte,"  says  the  Duchessed'Abrantes, 
who  was  present,  "  received  us  in  the  most  gracious 
manner  ;  it  was  in  such  cases  that  she  appeared  to 
the  utmost  advantage.  .  .  .  She  had  already  gone 
through  all  that  a  royal  novitiate  demanded,  and  it 
can  scarcely  be  imagined  with  what  ease  she  stepped 
into  the  station  of  queen." 

Bonaparte  established  himself  in  the  apartments 
formerly  occupied  by  the  royal  family  ;  Josephine 
and  her  own  family  on  the  floor  below,  where  she 
held  a  separate  court  of  her  own.  Here  she  was  ap- 
proached by  those  who  still  had  hopes  of  the  return 
of  the  Bourbons  to  the  throne  of  France.  The  cir- 
cumstance of  the  marriage  of  the  Dictator  of  France 
with  one  of  the  ancient  aristocracy,  and  Josephine's 
notorious  attachment  for  the  ancienne  regime,  gave 
the  Koyalists  hope  ;  they  swarmed  upon  her,  and 
through  her  sought  to  approach  the  First  Consul. 

A  certain  titled  lady  was  sent  by  the  Bourbons  to 
asscertain  the  sentiments  of  Josephine  regarding  the 
re-establishment  of  the  royal  family  in  power.  In 
drawing  a  flattering  picture  of  the  prospective  hon- 
ors awaiting  Napoleon,  should  he  condescend  to 
merge  his  own  glory  in  that  of  the  legitimate  sover- 
eigns of  France,  the  lady  said  to  Josephine  :  "  We 
will  raise  upon  the  Carrousal  a  magnificent  column, 
upon  which  will  be  a  statue  of  Bonaparte  crowning 
the  Bourbons."  Josephine  repeated  this  speech  to 
Napoleon,  who  dryly  remarked  :  "  And  did  you  not 


282  JOSEPHINE. 

tell  them  that  this  magnificent  column  would  have  as 
its  pedestal  the  corpse  of  the  First  Consul  ? "  The 
pretty  Duchess  was  arrested,  and  the  next  night 
sent  over  the  frontier.  Although  Bonaparte  was 
willing  that  Josephine  should  entertain  her  friends 
of  the  aristocracy,  and  that  it  should  be  understood 
that  she  was  accessible  to  them  at  all  times,  yet  he 
did  not  choose  she  should  be  made  a  cat's-paw  for 
royalty.  She  was  the  connecting  link  between  the 
old  regime  and  the  new  ;  she  was  most  useful  in  the 
scheme  he  had  formed  for  the  fusion  of  the  aristoc- 
racy with  republicanism  ;  but  could  not  be  used  to 
swerve  him  from  his  allegiance  to — himself.  He  had 
not  built  this  great  structure  for  the  occupancy  of 
royalism  ;  although  he  was  careful  to  let  it  so  ap- 
pear to  their  friends.  It  was  not  till  after  Marengo 
that  the  royalists  were  undeceived  ;  that  they  saw 
clearly  Bonaparte  would  turn  to  his  own  account 
this  strong  centralization  of  his  power  ;  and  then 
they  filled  France  with  assassins  and  spies. 

Their  last  hope  perished  at  Marengo.  The  world 
was  startled  by  this  achievement  :  when  the  Great 
Saint  Bernard  was  scaled,  the  mighty  Alps  crossed 
in  safety,  and  the  armies  of  Napoleon  hurled  upon 
the  Austrians  assembled  on  the  plains  of  Italy. 

"The  incredible  difficulties  it  presented  did  not 
daunt  the  courage  of  Bonaparte's  troops.  His  gen- 
erals, accustomed  as  they  had  been  to  brave  fatigue 
and  danger,  regarded  without  concern  the  gigantic 
enterprise  of  the  modern  Hannibal.  .  .  .  What 
little  time  and  how  few  events  sometimes  suffice 


JOSEPHINE.  283 

to  change  the  destiny  of  nations  !  We  left  Milan 
on  the  13th  of  June,  Marengo  was  on  the  14th,  and 
on  the  15th  Italy  was  ours.  A  suspension  of  hostil- 
ities between  the  French  and  Austrian  armies  was 
the  immediate  result  of  a  single  battle  ;  and  by 
virtue  of  a  convention,  concluded  between  Berthier 
and  Melas,  we  resumed  possession  of  all  the  fortified 
places  of  any  importance,  with  the  exception  of 
Mantua. 

"After  our  return  from  the  battle  the  popular  joy 
was  general  and  heartfelt,  not  only  among  the 
higher  and  middle  ranks  of  society,  but  in  all  classes  ; 
and  the  affection  evinced  from  all  quarters  to  the 
First  Consul  was  unfeigned.  In  what  a  tone  of  sin- 
cerity did  he  say  to  me  one  day,  when  returning 
from  a  parade  :  '  Bourrienne,  do  you  hear  the  accla- 
mations still  resounding  ?  That  noise  is  as  sweet  to 
me  as  the  sound  of  Josephine's  voice.  How  happy 
and  proud  I  am  to  be  loved  by  such  a  people  !' ' 

Moreau's  victory  of  Hohenlinden,  in  November, 
completed  the  humiliation  of  Austria,  who  was 
forced  to  sue  for  peace  and  to  break  her  alliance 
with  England. 

The  first  year  of  the  new  century  saw  Bonaparte 
in  possession  of  nearly  all  the  territory  France  had 
lost  during  his  absence  in  Egypt,  and  his  arm's  every- 
where triumphant.  He  was  firmly  established  in  the 
hearts  of  the  French,  and  if  anything  were  needed 
to  cement  their  affection  it  came  in  the  attempt  of 
the  royalist  conspirators  to  destroy  him,  on  the 
twenty-fourth  of  December,  1800. 


284  JOSEPHINE. 

On  the  evening  of  this  day  the  first  performance 
of  Haydn's  Oratorio,  the  "Creation,"  took  place  at 
the  opera.  The  First  Consul  had  announced  his  in- 
tention of  being  present,  and  at  the  appointed  hour 
he  set  out  in  a  carriage,  with  some  friends,  mem- 
bers of  his  staff  ;  while  Josephine,  who  was  to  fol- 
low immediately  after,  was  detained  by  some  trivial 
circumstance.  This  detention  saved  their  lives  ;  as 
it  was,  they  had  a  narrow  escape,  the  "infernal 
machine,"  as  it  was  called,  being  exploded  between 
the  carriage  of  the  First  Consul  and  her  own.  The 
engine  of  death  was  in  the  shape  of  a  watering-cart, 
loaded  with  explosives,  and  of  such  a  deadly  charac- 
ter that  the  street  in  which  it  stood  was  wrecked, 
houses  destroyed,  and  many  persons  killed.  Hor- 
tense,  who  was  in  the  carriage  with  Josephine,  was 
cut  by  flying  glass,  and  entered  the  theater  with 
blood  flowing  from  her  cheek.  The  escape  was  most 
miraculous  ;  had  the  two  carriages  been  together, 
the  whole  party  would  have  been  blown  to  atoms. 
Arrived  at  the  theater,  Bonaparte  entered  his  box 
with  composure,  only  the  deadly  pallor  of  his  coun- 
tenance showing  that  anything  untoward  had  oc- 
curred. His  only  anxiety  was  for  his  wife,  and  as 
his  aide-de-camp  entered,  some  minutes  later,  hav- 
ing gone  to  inquire  as  to  her  safety,  the  word 
' '  Josephine  ?  "  trembled  on  his  lips.  Her  appearance 
reassured  him,  and  he  then  gave  his  attention  to 
the  play.  The  noise  of  the  explosion  startled  the 
immense  audience  in  attendance,  and  soon  the  truth 
was  disseminated  ;  every  eye  was  directed  to  the  box 


JOSEPHINE.  285 

where  sat  the  First  Consul  and  his  wife,  and  from 
two  thousand  throats  came  cries  of  joy  and  affec- 
tion ;  spontaneous  testimonial  that  he  was  the  pop- 
ular idol,  that  his  enemies  should  feel  the  weight 
of  their  vengeance. 

Bonaparte  had  coolly  remarked  to  his  aide-de- 
camp, when  assured  of  the  safety  of  his  family  : 
"Those  rascals  tried  to  blow  me  up;  bring  me  a 
book  of  the  Oratorio."  But  he  did  not  allow  any 
time  to  elapse  before  setting  the  police  upon  the 
trail  of  the  conspirators,  and,  though  indifferent 
to  death,  he  was  rendered  furious  at  the  continued 
and  relentless  persecution  of  his  enemies.  He  re- 
solved to  make  an  example  of  them  ;  the  lion  in  him 
was  aroused  ;  he  pursued  and  hunted  them  out  with 
a  tenacity  of  purpose  that  allowed  of  no  escape. 
One  by  one,  they  were  brought  to  answer  for  their 
crimes,  and  most  of  them  perished  upon  the  scaf- 
fold. 

During  the  succeeding  four  or  five  years,  Napo- 
leon hardly  left  the  soil  of  France,  but  devoted  all 
his  energies  to  the  repairing  of  the  terrible  ravages 
made  by  so  many  years  of  war  and  civil  strife.  In 
1801,  by  the  treaty  of  Luneville  with  Germany,  the 
left  bank  of  the  Rhine  was  secured  to  France,  also 
the  Austrian  Netherlands,  and  Venice  was  parti- 
tioned. During  that  year  treaties  were  concluded 
with  Spain,  with  Naples,  with  the  Pope,  with  Ba- 
varia, Portugal,  Russia,  Turkey,  and  Algiers.  Fi- 
nally, by  the  treaty  of  Amiens,  peace  was  declared 
between  France  and  England,  and  the  First  Con- 


286  JOSEPHINE. 

sul  well  earned  the  title  of  the  "  Pacificator."  Two 
years  later,  in  May,  1803,  war  again  broke  out  be- 
tween England  and  France  ;  the  Senate  immedi- 
ately voted  to  place  120,000  conscripts  at  the  First 
Consul's  orders,  and  preparations  for  war  were  made 
on  a  vast  scale.  Meanwhile,  in  the  year  1801,  had 
occurred  the  disastrous  expedition  to  Santo  Domingo, 
J>y  which  General  Leclerc,  Bonaparte's  brother-in- 
law,  and  20,000  men,  the  flower  of  the  French  army, 
were  lost. 

In  1802,  Bonaparte  was  proclaimed  Consul  for 
life,  and  he  at  last  stood  alone  upon  the  pinnacle 
of  his  glory. 

Another  event  bearing  hard  upon  the  destinies  of 
France,  and  drawing  upon  her  the  observation  of  the 
world,  was  the  Concordat  with  Eome,  by  which  the 
Koman  Catholic  religion  was  restored  in  France. 
It  is  not  claimed  that  the  Consul  was  actuated  by 
religious  motives  so  much  as  by  political.  His  mo- 
tives, and  the  event,  are  clearly  stated  by  Bour- 
rienue.* 


*  "  Relating  to  the  proposition  of  Bonaparte  to  make  France  a  Pro- 
testant country,  and  change  the  religion  of  30,000,000  people  by  an 
Imperial  decree, — Comte  de  Narbonne : — 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  I  will  do,  Narbonne, — I  tell  you  how  I  will 
vent  my  spite  on  this  old  fool  of  a  Pope,  and  the  dotards  who  may 
succeed  him  :  I  will  make  a  schism  as  great  as  that  of  Luther — I  will 
make  France  a  Protestant  country.  ..." 

"Sire,  I  see  difficulties  in  the  way  of  this  project..  In  the  South, 
in  Vendee,  in  nearly  all  the  West,  the  French  are  bigoted  Catholics, 
and  even  what  little  religion  remains  among  us,  in  our  cities  and 
great  towns,  is  of  the  Roman  church." 


JOSEPHINE.  287 

On  the  subject  of  religion  Bonaparte's  ideas 
were  very  vague.  .  .  .  The  perpetuity  of  a  name  in 
the  memory  of  man  was  to  him  the  immortality  of 
the  soul.  He  was  perfectly  tolerant  towards  every 
variety  of  religious  faith. 

The  First  Consul,  taking  a  superior  view  of  the 
state  of  France,  considered  that  the  re-establishment 
of  religious  worship  would  prove  a  powerful  support 
to  his  government,  and  he  had  been  occupied,  ever 
since  the  commencement  of  1801,  in  preparing  a 
concordat  with  the  Pope.  It  was  signed  in  July  of 
the  same  year.  ...  A  solemn  Te  Deum  was  chanted 
at  the  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  on  Sunday,  the 
llth  of  April.  The  crowd  was  immense,  and  the 
greater  part  of  those  present  stood  during  the  cere- 
mony, which  was  splendid  in  the  extreme ;  but  who 
would  presume  to  say  that  the  general  feeling  was 
in  harmony  with  all  this  pomp  ?  .  .  . 

The  Consular  Court  was,  in  general,  extremely 
irreligious  ;  nor  could  it  be  expected  to  be  otherwise, 
being  composed  chiefly  of  those  who  had  assisted  in 
the  annihilation  of  all  religious  worship  in  France, 
and  of  men  who,  having  passed  their  lives  in  camps, 
had  oftener  entered  a  church  in  Italy  to  carry  off  a 
painting,  than  to  hear  the  mass  !  .  .  .  On  the  road 
from  the  Tuileries  to  Notre  Dame,  Lannes  and 
Augereau  wanted  to  alight  from  the  carriage,  as 

"  Nevermind,  Narbonne,  never  mind — I  shall  at  least  carry  a  large 
portion  of  the  French  people  with  me — I  will  make  a  division." 

"Sire,  I  am  afraid  that  there  is  not  enough  religion  in  all  France 
to  stand  division." 


288  JOSEPHINE. 

soon  as  they  saw  that  they  were  being  driven  to 
mass,  and  it  required  an  order  from  the  First  Consul 
to  prevent  their  doing  so.  They  went,  therefore,  to 
Notre  Dame,  and  the  next  day  Bonaparte  asked 
Augereau  what  he  thought  of  the  ceremony.  "Oh, 
it  was  all  very  fine,"  replied  the  General ;  "there 
was  nothing  wanting,  except  the  million  of  men 
who  have  perished  in  the  pulling  down  of  what  you 
are  setting  up  ! "  Josephine,  although  sharing  with 
Bonaparte  his  views  on  religious  questions,  that  is, 
having  no  deep  convictions  on  the  subject,  yet 
graced  by  her  presence  the  rood-loft  of  Notre  Dame 
during  the  impressive  ceremonial. 

In  1803  the  civil  code  was  proclaimed,  that  monu- 
ment to  the  genius  and  energy  of  Napoleon,  which 
later  was  perfected,  and  proclaimed  as  the  "  Code 
Napoleon."  Thus  these  years  saw  his  great  mind 
working  in  the  interests  of  peace,  of  religion,  of  the 
establishment  of  the  law.  This  was  the  most  prom- 
ising period  of  his  career,  and  his  happy  consort 
shared  with  him  the  affectionate  regard  of  a  con- 
tented and  prosperous  people.  If  ambition  had  not 
still  pursued  him,  if  the  desire  for  universal  con- 
quest had  not  taken  possession  of  his  mind,  if  the 
desire  to  found  a  throne  and  perpetuate  his  successes 
in  his  own  name,  by  a  direct  heir  of  his  own  blood, 
had  not  filled  his  heart,  then  how  different  would 
be  the  record  of  his  subsequent  achievements  !  On 
the  day  in  which  Bonaparte  was  named  Consul  for 
life,  says  his  secretary,  Bourrienne  :  "  .  .  .  the 
principal  apartments  of  the  Tuileries  presented  the 


JOSEPHINE.  289 

appearance  of  a  fete.  This  formed  a  striking  con- 
trast with  the  melancholy  of  Josephine,  who  felt 
that  every  step  of  the  First  Consul  towards  the 
throne  removed  him  farther  from  her.  .  .  .  She 
had  to  receive  a  party,  that  evening,  and,  though 
greatly  depressed  in  spirits,  she  did  the  honors  with 
her  usual  grace."  These  two,  working  together, 
the  one  for  the  re-establishment  of  law  and  religion, 
the  other  for  the  amelioration  of  society,  have  earned 
the  gratitude  of  regenerated  France  ;  though  it  is 
doubtful  if  this  debt  has  ever  been  fully  recognized. 
At  the  outset,  there  was  at  the  Tuileries  neither 
established  etiquette  nor  ceremonial  ;  an  old  coun- 
sellor of  state  had  the  management  of  the  palace 
assisted  by  the  First  Consul's  aide-de-camp,  and 
above  all  by  the  gallant  Duroc.  "At  that  time," 
says  the  Duchess  d'Abrantes,  "vice  and  disorder 
were  no  longer  protected  by  the  heads  of  the  State, 
but  levity  and  immodesty  in  all  that  related  to  the 
reputation  and  fate  of  the  female  sex,  were  but  too 
much  in  vogue  at  the  moment  of  the  Eevolution. 
...  It  is  certain  that  in  1800,  when  the  court  of  the 
Tuileries  was  formed,  society  wore  an  appearance 
of  morality  and  domestic  virtue  which  it  had  never 
before  displayed  in  France.  The  noblesse,  or  what 
was  at  last  by  general  consent  denominated  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain,  was  constrained  to  follow 
the  general  current."  .  .  .  The  emigres,  another 
writer  says  :  "...  in  spite  of  their  haughtiness, 
were  obliged  to  draw  nearer  and  nearer  to  Bona- 
parte ;  but  in  1802  they  contented  themselves  with 


290  JOSEPHINE. 

paying  their  court  to  Josephine.  .  .  .  Women  like 
to  protect,  and  to  confer  rather  than  receive  a  kind- 
ness. It  was  with  keen  pleasure  that  Josephine 
found  herself  sought  after  by  people  of  the  old 
regime,  who  still  refused  to  bow  before  her  hus- 
band, and  who  used  to  come  to  call  on  her,  in  her 
apartment  on  the  ground-floor  of  the  Tuileries,  at 
the  same  time  boasting  that  they  had  never  set  foot 
on  the  grand  staircase  of  the  palace.  ...  As  for 
Josephine,  she  was  never  more  at  her  ease  than  in 
the  society  of  the  emigres,  for  with  them  she  felt  a 
harmony  of  ideas  and  hopes.  .  .  .  Thiers  has  said 
that  she  ought  rather  to  have  crushed  them  beneath 
the  weight  of  her  pride  ;  but  how  could  she  have 
done  this,  when  she  had  shared  their  feelings,  their 
grief,  their  sufferings,  and  but  for  the  ninth  Ther- 
midor  would  have  died  on  the  guillotine  ?  " 

A  pretty  picture  exists  of  Josephine  as  she  ap- 
peared at  this  time,  in  1803,  at  the  wedding  of 
Pauline,  Bonaparte's  sister,  and  the  Prince  Borghese. 
.  .  .  "With  her  short  sleeves,  bare  arms,  and  her 
hair  enclosed  in  a  gilt  net,  the  meshes  of  which  met 
on  her  forehead,  she  looked  like  a  Greek  statue. 
The  First  Consul  led  her  to  a  mirror,  that  he  might 
see  her  on  all  sides  at  once,  and,  kissing  her  shoulder, 
said  :  '  Ah,  Josephine,  I  shall  be  jealous  ;  you  have 
some  plan  in  your  head.  Why  are  you  so  beautiful 
to-day  ? '  'I  know  that  you  like  to  see  me  in  white, 
and  so  I  put  on  a  white  dress  ;  that  is  all.'  '  Well, 
if  you  did  it  to  please  me,  you  have  succeeded,'  and 
he  kissed  her  again." 


JOSEPHINE.  291 

The  same  year,  1803,  witnessed  the  triumphal 
journey  of  Napoleon  and  his  consort  across  France, 
and  to  Boulogne,  where  the  immense  flotilla  and 
armament  were  gathered  for  the  threatened  descent 
upon  the  English  coast.  They  were  everywhere 
received  with  acclamation,  at  all  points  welcomed 
with  enthusiasm,  and  returned  to  Paris  convinced 
of  the  entire  love  and  confidence  of  their  subjects. 
For,  subjects  they  were,  even  though  the  imperial 
crown  had  not  been  assumed.  The  shadows  length- 
ening on  the  field  of  war  portended  an  imperial  am- 
bition, the  more  rigorous  etiquette  of  their  court  at 
the  Tuileries,  augured  a  return  to  royalty. 

In  order  to  seek  benefit  from  the  waters, 
Josephine  went  to  Plombieres,  while  Napoleon  rested 
awhile  at  Malmaison,  from  which  retreat  he  wrote 
his  wife  the  following  charming  letters  :  .  .  . 

"  MALMAISON,  llth  June,  1803. 

"We  are  somewhat  dull  here,  although  the  ami- 
able daughter  (Mme.  Louis  Bonaparte),  does  the 
honors  of  the  house  marvellously  well.  I  love  you 
as  on  the  first  day,  because  you  are  good  and  loving 
above  all  else.  A  thousand  sweet  messages  and  a 
kiss  of  love.  Always  thine.— 

"June  23d.  .  .  I  received  your  letter,  sweet  little 
Josephine.  I  see  with  pain  that  you  have  suffered 
on  the  journey  ;  but  a  few  days  of  rest  will  make 
you  well  again.  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  nothing 
is  truer  than  the  love  I  have  for  my  little  Jose- 
phine.— 


292  JOSEPHINE. 

June  27th.  .  .  .  "Your  letter,  dear  little  wife, 
tells  me  that  you  are  not  well.  Corvisart  says  that 
is  a  good  sign,  and  that  the  baths  will  have  the  de- 
sired effect.  Still,  to  know  that  you  are  suffering 
gives  me  a  pain  at  my  heart.  Thine  for  life.— 

July  1st.  .  .  .  "You  do  not  write  me  of  your 
health,  nor  of  the  effect  of  the  baths.  I  see  that  you 
are  expecting  to  return  in  a  week.  That  will  be  a 
great  pleasure  to  your  husband,  who  is  tired  of 
being  alone.  Believe  me,  I  beg,  that  I  love  you, 
and  am  very  impatient  to  see  you  again.  Every- 
thing here  is  sad  without  you. 

"NAPOLEON." 

The  baths  of  Plombieres  did  not  have  "the  de- 
sired effect,"  and  both  husband  and  wife  abandoned 
hope  that  an  heir  could  be  born  of  their  union. 

In  the  meantime  their  enemies  were  not  inactive. 
The  Bourbon  conspirators  were  swarming  in  the 
very  capital ;  the  arrest  of  Pichegru,  Moreau,  the 
Chouan  Cadoudal,  was  succeeded  by  that  high- 
handed capture  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien  on  neutral 
territory.  His  arrest,  the  incarceration  in  the 
citadel  of  Strasbourg,  and  finally  his  summary  ex- 
ecution in  the  moat  of  Vincennes,  form  one  of  the 
darkest  episodes  of  Bonaparte's  career.  The  murder 
of  the  last  of  the  Condes  was  a  blot  upon  his  shield 
all  the  subsequent  glory  of  repeated  victories  could 
not  erase.  Yet,  Napoleon  was  driven  to  desperation 
by  the  repeated  attempts  of  the  Bourbons  upon  his 
life  ;  he  would  give  them  a  terrible  warning,  that 


JOSEPHINE.  293 

no  life  was  too  sacred  to  prevent  him  from  achieving 
his  destiny,  even  though  through  pools  of  royal  blood. 
"It  is  not  difficult,"  writes  one,  of  this  dark  period, 
"to  picture  the  distress  of  Josephine,  when  she  saw 
her  husband  and  herself  so  beset  with  perils.  But, 
with  her  experience  of  danger,  she  kept  up  a  good 
heart.  In  the  Reign  of  Terror,  and  on  the  evening 
of  the  infernal  machine,  she  had  seen  death  near 
her  without  a  tremor.  With  all  her  anxiety,  she 
did  not  lose  her  head  ;  she  continued  to  be  amiable 
and  kindly,  appeasing  and  advising  her  husband.  . .  . 
Unfortunately  for  Napoleon,  he  refused  to  listen  to 
Josephine  ;  in  his  exasperation  he  lost  all  self-con- 
trol ;  he  yearned  to  do  something  terrible,  to  strike 
some  strong  blow.  He  represented  vengeance,  his 
wife  forgiveness.  ...  At  the  Tuileries,  there  was  a 
struggle  between  anger  and  pity." 

In  this  connection,  the  testimony  of  a  witness  to 
Josephine's  agitation  is  of  value  :  .  .  . 

"  'Bourrienne,'"  exclaimed  Josephine,  as  soon  as 
she  perceived  me,  '  what  a  dreadful  event.  .  .  .  Did 
you  but  know  the  state  of  mind  Bonaparte  is  in  !  .  .  . 
He  avoids,  he  dreads,  the  presence  of  every  one. 
Who  could  have  suggested  such  an  act  as  this  ? .  .  .  . 
But  no  reproach  can  rest  upon  me,  for  I  did  every- 
thing to  dissuade  him  from  this  dreadful  project. 
He  did  not  confide  the  secret  to  me,  but  I  guessed  it, 
and  he  acknowledged  all.  How  harshly  he  repelled 
my  entreaties  !  I  clung  to  him.  I  threw  myself 
at  his  feet.  '  Meddle  with  what  concerns  you,'  he 
exclaimed  angrily.  '  This  is  not  a  woman's  busi- 


294  JOSEPHINE. 

ness.  Leave  me  ! '  And  he  repulsed  me  with  a 
violence  which  he  had  never  displayed  since  our 
first  interview  after  your  return  from  Egypt. 
Heavens  !  what  will  become  of  us  ? ' ' 

This  was  in  March,  1804,  only  three  months  before 
Napoleon  was  declared  Emperor  of  France.  There 
was  little  time  for  gloomy  reflection  ;  events  were 
hastening  towards  their  consummation  :  towards 
the  crowning  of  Napoleon  and  Josephine  as  supreme 
rulers  of  France. 

What  were  the  emotions  of  Josephine,  seeing  the 
approaching  event,  knowing  that  she  would  soon  be 
raised  to  share  with  her  husband  the  highest  honors 
that  a  grateful  people  could  bestow  ?  Thibadeau 
has  said  in  his  Memoirs.  .  .  . 

"In  France  and  in  Europe,  everything  conspired 
for  the  sacrifice  of  the  rights  of  the  people  in  favor 
of  the  First  Consul.  At  court  one  woman  still 
resisted  the  mighty  current :  she  alone  was  not 
blinded  by  all  the  illusions  of  greatness.  She  was 
pursued  by  the  wildest  alarm  and  the  gloomiest 
forebodings.  Indeed,  Madame  Bonaparte  perhaps 
foresaw  her  fall  in  her  husband's  elevation  to  the 
throne ;  but  a  delicate  instinct,  which  in  woman 
often  takes  the  place  of  perspicacity,  prevented  her 
seeing  without  horror  a  man  reigning  over  the 
ruins  of  the  republic,  who  owed  to  the  republic  his 
greatness  and  glory." 

The  Duchess  d'Abrantes,  who,  like  Bourrienne, 
was  intimately  acquainted  with  Madame  Bonaparte, 
and  a  witness  of  the  scenes  antecedent  to  the  corona- 


JOSEPHINE.  295 

tion,  writes,  in  her  Memoirs  :  .  .  .  "  Josephine  had 
no  gloomy  presentiments,  either  as  regarded  herself 
or  Napoleon.  She  was  in  excellent  spirits,  and  told 
me  that  the  emperor  had  that  morning  made  her 
try  on  the  crown  which  next  day  he  was  to  place  on 
her  head  in  the  eyes  of  France.  And  she  shed  tears 
of  joy  when  she  mentioned  this." 

It  would  seem,  in  fact,  that  Josephine  was  not 
possessed  of  that  perspicacity  or  prescience,  which 
enabled  her  to  foretell  the  disastrous  termination  of 
the  empire  ;  though  she  may  have  had  some  strong 
suspicion  that  the  elevation  of  her  husband  would 
have  the  effect  of  increasing  his  ambitions  and 
reflect  unhappily  upon  herself.  Bourrienne  himself 
says.  .  .  . 

"Josephine,  whose  susceptibility  appears  to  me 
even  now  excusable,  well  knew  my  sentiments  on 
the  subject  of  Bonaparte's  founding  a  dynasty.  .  .  . 
I  remember  that  one  day,  after  the  publication  of  the 
parallel  of  Ca3sar,  Cromwell,  and  Bonaparte,  Jose- 
phine, having  entered  our  cabinet  without  being 
announced,  approached  Bonaparte  softly,  seated  her- 
self on  his  knee,  passed  her  hand  gently  through  his 
hair  and  over  his  face,  and  said  to  him,  in  a  burst 
of  tenderness  :  '  I  entreat  you,  Bonaparte,  do  not 
make  yourself  a  king.  ...  It  is  that  wretch  Lucien 
who  urges  you  to  it.  Do  not  listen  to  him.' 

"  Bonaparte  replied  without  anger,  and  even  smil- 
ing as  he  pronounced  the  words,  '  You  are  mad,  my 
poor  Josephine.  It  is  your  old  dowagers  of  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain,  who  tell  you  all  these 


296  JOSEPHINE. 

fables.  .  .  .  Come,  now,  you  interrupt  me  ;  leave  me 
alone.' 

"  I  said  to  her,  one  day  :  '  No  sovereign  in  Europe 
has  so  much  power  as  he  has.  I  am  sorry  for  it, 
Madame,  but  I  really  believe  that,  in  spite  of  your- 
self, you  will  be  made  Queen  or  Empress.' 

"  Madame  Bonaparte  had  allowed  me  to  speak  with- 
out interruption,  but  when  I  pronounced  the  words 
Queen  and  Empress  she  exclaimed  :  '  My  God,  Bour- 
rienne,  such  ambition  is  far  from  my  thoughts. 
That  I  may  always  continue  the  wife  of  the  First 
Consul  is  all  I  desire.  Say  to  him  all  that  you  have 
said  to  me.  Try  and  prevent  him  from  making 
himself  king.  He  has  so  much  confidence  in  you, 
Bourrienne.'" 


JOSEPHINE.  297 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

"YOUR  MAJESTY." 

THE  coronation  took  place  on  the  second  of  Decem- 
ber, 1804,  in  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame,  which  had 
been  newly  painted  and  most  magnificently  decorated 
for  this  great  occasion.  .  .  .  We  have,  in  the  pages 
of  Bourrienne,  a  concise  account  of  this  ceremony, 
which  was  witnessed  by  a  prodigious  concourse  of 
spectators. 

"  The  Pope  set  out  from  the  Tuileries  and  pro- 
ceeded along  the  quay  to  the  archiepiscopal  palace, 
whence  he  repaired  to  the  choir  by  a  private 
entrance. 

"The  Emperor,  with  the  Empress,  went  by  the 
Carrousal.  .  .  .  The  procession,  truly  a  magnificent 
sight,  was  opened  by  the  already  numerous  body  of 
courtiers  :  next  came  the  marshals  of  the  Empire, 
wearing  their  honors ;  then  the  dignitaries  and 
high  officers  of  the  Crown  ;  and  lastly  the  Emperor, 
in  a  dress  of  state.  At  the  moment  of  his  entering 
the  cathedral  there  was  a  simultaneous  shout  of 
*  Vive  VEmpereur. '  The  procession  passed  along  the 
middle  of  the  nave  and  arrived  at  the  choir,  facing 
the  high  altar.  This  scene  was  not  less  imposing  ; 


298  JOSEPHINE. 

the  galleries  round  the  choir  were  filled  with  the 
handsomest  women  whom  the  best  company  could 
produce,  and  most  of  whom  rivaled  in  the  luster 
of  their  beauty  that  of  the  jewels  with  which  they 
were  covered. 

"His  Holiness  went  to  meet  the  Emperor  at  a 
tribune  which  had  been  placed  in  the  middle  of  the 
choir ;  there  was  another  on  one  side  for  the  Em- 
press. After  saying  a  short  prayer  there  they 
returned,  and  seated  themselves  on  the  throne  at 
the  end  of  the  church  facing  the  choir,  where  they 
heard  mass,  which  was  said  by  the  Pope. 

"  They  went  to  make  the  offering,  and  came  back  ; 
they  then  descended  from  the  platform  of  the  throne 
and  walked  in  procession  to  receive  the  holy  unction. 
The  Emperor  and  Empress,  on  reaching  the  choir, 
replaced  themselves  at  their  tribunes,  where  the 
Pope  performed  the  ceremony. 

"He  presented  the  crown  to  the  Emperor,  who 
received  it,  put  it  himself  upon  his  head,  took  it 
off,  placed  it  on  that  of  the  Empress,  removed  it 
again,  and  laid  it  on  the  cushion  where  it  was  at 
first.  A  smaller  one  was  immediately  put  upon 
the  head  of  the  Empress.  All  the  arrangements 
had  been  made  beforehand  ;  she  was  surrounded  by 
her  ladies  ;  everything  was  done  in  a  moment,  and 
nobody  perceived  the  substitution  which  had  taken 
place. 

"  The  procession  moved  back  to  the  platform,  and 
there  the  Emperor  heard  the  Te  Deum.  The  Pope 
himself  went  thither,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  service, 


JOSEPHINE.  299 

as  if  to  say :  Ite  missa  est.  The  Testament  was 
presented  to  the  Emperor,  who  took  off  his  glove, 
and  pronounced  his  oath,  with  his  hand  upon  the 
sacred  book. 

"He  went  back  to  the  archbishop's  palace  by  the 
same  way  he  had  come,  and  entered  his  carriage. 
The  ceremony  was  very  long  ;  the  procession  re- 
turned by  a  different  route,  and  it  was  getting  dusk 
when  the  Emperor  arrived  at  the  Tuileries." 

"  The  ceremony,"  saysMme.  de  Kemusat,  another 
of  the  spectators,  "was  grand  and  impressive.  A 
general  movement  of  admiration  was  noticed  at  the 
moment  when  the  Empress  was  crowned.  She  was 
so  unaffected,  so  graceful,  as  she  advanced  towards 
the  altar,  she  knelt  with  such  simple  elegance, 
that  all  eyes  were  delighted  with  the  picture  she 
presented.  .  .  . 

"  When,  however,  she  had  to  walk  from  the  altar 
to  the  throne,  there  was  a  slight  altercation  with 
her  sisters-in-law,  who,  by  order  of  their  imperial 
brother,  carried  her  mantle.  Feeling  themselves 
slighted,  they  bore  their  burden  with  such  ill-grace 
that  I  observed  at  one  moment  the  new-made 
Empress  could  not  advance  a  step.  The  Emperor 
perceived  this,  and  spoke  a  few  short  sharp  words  to 
his  sisters,  which  speedily  brought  them  to  reason." 

Perhaps  the  happiest  description  of  Josephine's 
participation  in  the  coronation  ceremonies  is  from 
the  pen  of  another  witness,  the  Duchess  d'  Abrantes, 
who  says  : 

"When  the  moment  arrived  for  Josephine  to  take 


300  JOSEPHINE. 

an  active  part  in  the  grand  drama,  she  descended 
from  the  throne  and  advanced  towards  the  altar, 
where  the  Emperor  awaited  her,  followed  by  her 
retinue  of  court  ladies,  and  having  her  train  borne  by 
the  Princesses  Caroline,  Julie,  Eliza,  and  Louis. 
One  of  the  chief  beauties  of  the  Empress  Josephine 
was  not  merely  her  fine  figure,  but  the  elegant  turn 
of  her  neck,  and  the  way  in  which  she  carried  her 
head ;  indeed,  her  deportment  altogether  was  con- 
spicuous for  dignity  and  grace.  I  have  had  the 
honor  of  being  presented  to  many  real  princesses — 
to  use  the  phrase  of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain — 
but  I  never  saw  one  who,  to  my  eyes,  presented  so 
perfect  a  personification  of  elegance  and  majesty. 

"  In  Napoleon's  countenance  I  could  read  the  con- 
viction of  all  I  have  just  said.  He  looked  with 
an  air  of  complacency  at  the  Empress,  as  she  ad- 
vanced towards  him  ;  and  when  she  knelt  down, 
when  the  tears  which  she  could  not  repress  fell  upon 
her  clasped  hands,  as  they  were  raised  to  Heaven,  or 
rather  to  Napoleon, — both  then  appeared  to  enjoy 
one  of  those  fleeting  moments  of  pure  felicity  which 
are  unique  in  a  lifetime,  and  serve  to  fill  up  a 
lustrum  of  years.  The  Emperor  performed  with 
peculiar  grace  every  action  required  of  him  during 
the  ceremony  ;  but  his  manner  of  crowning  Joseph- 
ine was  most  remarkable  ;  after  receiving  the  small 
crown  surmounted  by  the  cross,  he  had  first  to  place 
it  on  his  own  head,  and  then  to  transfer  it  to  that  of 
the  Empress.  When  the  moment  arrived  for  placing 
the  crown  on  the  head  of  the  woman  whom  popular 


NAPOLEON  AT  MALMAISON. 


JOSEPHINE.  301 

superstition  regarded  as  his  good  genius,  his  manner 
was  almost  playful.  He  took  great  pains  to  arrange 
this  little  crown  which  was  placed  over  Josephine's 
tiara  of  diamonds  ;  he  then  put  it  on,  took  it  off,  and 
finally  put  it  on  again,  as  if  to  promise  her  she  should 
wear  it  gracefully  and  lightly.  My  position  enabled 
me  fortunately  to  see  and  observe  every  minute 
action  and  gesture  of  the  principal  actors  in  this 
magical  scene." 

The  coronation  was  but  the  final  act  in  the  drama, 
which  had  been  some  six  months  upon  the  boards  ; 
for  it  was  on  the  eighteenth  of  May,  preceding,  that 
the  Second  Consul,  Cambaceres,  President  of  the 
Senate,  had  come  to  Saint  Cloud  to  announce  to  the 
First  Consul  and  his  wife  their  elevation  to  the 
throne,  accompanied  by  all  the  senators,  and  escorted 
by  a  large  body  of  troops. 

He  "made  a  set  speech,  and  gave  Bonaparte,  for 
the  first  time,  the  title  of  'Your  Majesty.'  Bona- 
parte took  it  calmly,  just  as  though  he  had  borne 
the  title  all  his  life."  The  Senate  then  proceeded  to 
the  apartment  of  Madame  Bonaparte,  who  in  her 
turn  was  proclaimed  Empress,  and  addressed  by 
Cambaceres  in  the  following  speech  : 

"Madame,  the  Senate  has  still  an  agreeable  duty 
to  perform,  that  of  offering  to  your  Imperial  Majesty 
the  homage  of  its  respect  and  the  expression  of  the 
gratitude  of  the  French  people.  Yes,  Madame, 
France  makes  known  the  good  you  are  never  tired 
of  doing.  It  says  that,  always  accessible  to  the  un- 
fortunate, you  never  exercise  your  influence  over 


302  JOSEPHINE. 

the  head  of  the  State,  save  to  console  their  misery, 
and  that,  to  the  pleasure  of  obliging  them,  your 
Majesty  adds  that  amiable  delicacy  which  makes 
gratitude  sweeter  and  the  benefit  more  precious. 
This  happy  disposition  is  a  sure  token  that  the  name 
of  the  Empress  Josephine  will  be  the  signal  of  con- 
solation and  hope,  and,  as  the  virtues  of  Napoleon 
will  always  serve  as  an  example  to  his  successors  to 
teach  them  the  art  of  governing  nations,  so  the  un- 
dying memory  of  your  kindness  will  teach  their 
august  companions  that  the  art  of  drying  tears  is 
the  surest  way  of  ruling  over  men's  hearts. 

"  The  Senate  congratulates  itself  on  being  the  first 
to  greet  your  Imperial  Majesty,  and  he  who  has  the 
honor  to  be  its  spokesman  presumes  to  hope  that 
you  will  deign  to  count  him  among  the  number  of 
your  most  faithful  servants." 

"  To  this  harangue,"  says  Madame  de  Kemusat, 
"  Josephine  replied  with  that  natural  grace  which 
always  raised  her  to  the  level  of  any  position,  how- 
ever lofty,  in  which  she  might  be  placed. " 

And  now  she  had  reached  the  loftiest  position, 
was  at  the  summit  of  earthly  grandeur  ;  Josephine, 
the  obscure  Creole  of  Martinique,  was  now  Her 
Majesty,  Empress  of  all  the  French.  She  had  been 
represented  as  viewing  the  preparations  for  the  coro- 
nation with  melancholy  forebodings  ;  again,  essay- 
ing a  trial  of  the  imperial  crown  with  badinage  and 
laughter.  She  herself  has  said  :  .  .  .  "As  wife  of 
the  First  Consul  I  was  happy,  indeed,  because  I  was 
enabled  to  render  him  important  services  ;  but, 


JOSEPHINE.  303 

elevated  to  the  rank  of  Empress,  I  found  all  the 
avenues  to  the  throne  so  beset  by  men  of  every  con- 
dition, and  every  faction,  that  I  ceased  to  exert  the 
same  empire  over  Napoleon's  mind. 

"  But  Napoleon  began  to  neglect  me.  More  than 
one  Italian  beauty  momentarily  arrested  his  gaze. 
Constancy  was  not  the  favorite  virtue  of  the  modern 
Charlemagne.  .  .  .  But  he  was  terribly  afraid  of  the 
influence  of  women,  and  ever  on  his  guard  against 
allowing  them  the  slightest  dominion  over  him." 

Josephine  was  always  afraid,  and  not  without 
reason,  that  Bonaparte  would  be  carrying  on  an  in- 
trigue with  other  women ;  and  hence  arose  a  kind 
of  restraint,  which  she  manifested  whenever  a 
young  and  pretty  woman  was  presented  to  her. 
Her  readers,  or  lectrices  were  frequently  the  objects 
of  Napoleon's  transient  adoration,  and  for  this  reason 
they  were  constantly  being  changed.  One  of  them, 
the  young  and  beautiful  Mile.  Or. had  the  har- 
dihood to  repel,  or  to  affect  to,  this  conqueror  of 
so  many  countries  and  winner  of  so  great  a  mul- 
titude of  female  hearts.  Josephine,  who  had  long 
suspected  a  liaison  between  these  two,  one  day  sur- 
prised her  husband  at  the  feet  of  the  lovely  lectrice. 
The  young  lady  was  equal  to  the  occasion  : 
"  Come,"  said  she  to  the  Empress,  as  she  made  her 
appearance  so  unexpectedly  upon  this  private  stage, 
"come,  and  remind  your  husband,  what  he  has 
apparently  forgotten,  that  he  is  that  Napoleon 
whose  duty  it  is  to  furnish  to  his  people  examples  of 
virtue  and  wisdom."  The  reader  was  sent  away, 


304  JOSEPHINE. 

of  course,  and  was  soon  after  married  to  a  gentle- 
man of  some  importance  in  the  military  service. 
Napoleon  is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  when  he  heard 
of  her  marriage,  "So  much  the  better.  I  shall 
send  her  husband  so  far  from  France  that  she  will 
be  glad  to  come  and  humble  herself  before  me,  to 
prostrate  herself  at  my  feet,  soliciting  his  return." 

It  is  doubtful  if  he  uttered  this  despicable  senti- 
ment ;  but  if  he  did,  he  never  carried  out  the  inten- 
tion, for  he  was  not  capable  of  meanness  and  petty 
revenge.  We  cannot,  however,  remain  blind  to  his 
numerous  and  indiscreet  amours,  which  often  took 
place  before  the  very  eyes  of  the  Empress.  And 
what  must  have  been  the  feelings  of  his  royal  con- 
sort, when  Napoleon  was  thus  contravening  the 
canons  of  his  own  moral  code  ? 

We  know,  from  evidence  that  has  been  accepted 
as  irrefutable,  that  she  maintained  for  Napoleon  a 
lasting  affection,  and  which  he,  in  a  way,  requited. 
Yet,  how  numerous  were  the  offenses  which  he  put 
upon  her.  ..."  Whenever  he  had  a  mistress,"  says 
Madame  de  Remusat,  "he  let  her  know  it,  and 
showed  a  savage  sort  of  surprise  that  she  did  not 
approve  of  his  indulging  in  a  pleasure  which,  as  he 
would  demonstrate,  so  to  speak,  mathematically, 
was  both  allowable  and  necessary  to  him.  '  I  am 
not  an  ordinary  man,'  he  would  say  ;  '  and  the  laws 
of  morals  and  of  customs  were  never  made  for  me.' 

"  Such  speeches  as  these,  of  course,  aroused  the 
anger  of  his  wife,  and  she  replied  to  them  with  tears 
and  complaints,  which  her  husband  would  resent 


JOSEPHINE.  305 

with  the  utmost  violence.  After  a  while  his  new 
fancy  would  vanish  suddenly,  and  his  tenderness 
for  his  wife  revive.  Then  he  was  moved  by  her 
grief,  and  would  lavish  caresses  upon  her  as  un- 
measured as  his  wrath  had  been  ;  and,  as  she  was 
very  placable  and  gentle,  she  was  easily  appeased." 

Of  his  rude  manners,  the  same  writer  gives  an 
illustration  ;  it  was  immediately  after  the  death  of 
the  Duke  d'Enghien,  and  she,  in  common  with  the 
other  ladies  of  the  Court,  had  been  weeping.  "  Sud- 
denly fixing  a  piercing  eye  upon  me,  Bonaparte 
said  :  '  Why  have  you  no  rouge  ?  You  are  too  pale.' 
I  answered,  that  I  had  forgotten  it. 

"  *  What,'  said  he,'  a  woman  forget  to  put  on  her 
rouge  ! '  And  then,  with  a  loud  laugh,  he  turned 
to  his  wife  and  added  :  '  That  will  never  happen 
to  you,  Josephine.  .  .  .  Two  things  are  very  becoming 
to  women  : — rouge  and  tears." 

But  all  the  imperial  epiosodes  were  not  of  a  disa- 
greeable character  and  only  occasionally  was  the 
great  Bonaparte  rude  to  his  wife. 

" '  You  are  a  good  woman,  to  plead  for  Lucien,'he 
said  to  her  tenderly  one  day,  then  he  rose  from  his 
chair,  took  his  wife  in  his  arms,  and  laid  her  head 
softly  on  his  shoulder  ;  and  with  his  hand  still  rest- 
ing on  the  beautiful  head,  which  formed  a  contrast 
to  the  sad,  set  countenance  so  near  it,  he  told  us 
that  Lucien  had  resisted  all  his  entreaties,"  etc. 

"  Much  has  been  said  about  the  tyranny,  violence 
of  temper,  and  despotism  of  Napoleon,"  wrote  the 

Duchess  d'Abrantes.     "  I  revere, — nay,  even  wor- 
20 


306  JOSEPHINE. 

ship — his  memory  ;  but  I  am  not  so  absurd  as  to  con- 
sider him  a  god.  He  was  a  man,  and  partook  of 
the  failings  of  human  nature.  Nevertheless,  to 
speak  from  my  own  knowledge  of  his  character, — 
and  I  had  the  opportunity  of  knowing  him  well — I 
must  declare  my  honest  conviction  that  he  possessed 
a  noble  mind,  a  heart  forgetful  of  injuries,  and  a 
disposition  to  recommend  talent  wherever  he  found 
it.  Perhaps  at  no  period  did  Napoleon's  character 
appear  in  so  exalted  a  light  as  on  his  elevation  to 
the  imperial  authority.  He  had  previously  been 
the  object  of  envious  hatred,  and  of  base  persecu- 
tion ;  but  he  forgot  all  when  the  nation  invested 
him  with  supreme  power. 

"  Those  who  were  much  about  the  person  of  Na- 
poleon can  never  forget  the  splendor  which  was  shed 
over  his  features  when  he  smiled  ;  his  eyes  then  be- 
came truly  fine,  their  expression  softened ;  and  if 
the  sentiment  which  produced  the  smile  had  any- 
thing truly  noble  in  it,  its  effect  was  infinitely 
heightened  ;  it  was  then  that  his  countenance  be- 
came something  more  than  that  of  a  man. 

After  the  coronation  : 

"  Napoleon  then  addressing  Josephine,  said,  '  I 
desire  you  will  be  dazzling  in  jewelry  and  richly 
dressed  ;  do  you  hear  ? ' 

"  'Yes,'  replied  Madame  Bonaparte,  'and  then  you 
will  find  fault,  perhaps  fall  into  a  passion  ;  or  you 
will  erase  my  warrants  of  payment  from  the  mar- 
gins of  my  bills.'  And  she  pouted  like  a  little  girl, 


JOSEPHINE.  307 

but  with  the  most  perfect  good  humor.  Madame 
Bonaparte's  manners  possessed,  when  she  chose  it, 
a  seducing  charm.  Her  graciousness  might  be  too 
general  ;  but  undeniably,  she  could  be,  when  she 
chose,  perfectly  attractive  and  lovable.  When  the 
First  Consul  announced  his  wish  regarding  her 
toilet  she  looked  at  him  so  prettily,  walked  towards 
him  with  such  graceful  sweetness,  her  whole  man- 
ner breathing  so  evident  a  desire  to  please,  that  he 
must  have  had  a  heart  of  stone  who  could  resist 
her.  Napoleon  loved  her  ;  he  drew  her  close  to  him 
and  embraced  her  :  .  .  .  (  Certainly,  my  dear  love, 
I  sometimes  cancel  your  warrants  of  payment,  be- 
cause you  are  occasionally  so  imposed  upon  that  I 
cannot  take  it  upon  my  conscience  to  sanction  such 
abuses  ;  but  it  is  not,  therefore,  inconsistent  to 
recommend  you  to  be  magnificent  on  occasions  of 
parade.  One  interest  must  be  weighed  against 
another,  and  I  hold  the  balance  equitably,  though 
strictly.'  .  .  . 

"Madame  Bonaparte  was  an  astonishing  woman, 
and  must  have  formerly  been  extremely  pretty,  for 
though  now  no  longer  in  the  first  bloom  of  youth, 
her  personal  charms  were  still  striking.  Had  she 
but  possessed  teeth — I  do  not  say  ugly  or  pretty, 
but  only  teeth — she  would  certainly  have  outvied 
nearly  all  the  ladies  of  the  Consular  Court. " 

Josephine,  says  one  who  was  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  her  mode  of  life,  had  what  are  called 
habitudes ;  her  mode  of  life  was  always  the  same. 
Her  habit  was  to  rise  at  eight  in  the  morning, 


308  JOSEPHINE. 

glancing  over  the  papers  while  her  toilet  was 
being  performed,  and  perhaps  receiving  tradesmen 
and  others  not  admitted  to  her  salon. 

At  noon,  breakfast,  after  conversation  in  the 
salon  with  her  guests  and  dames  de  service.  From 
breakfast  till  four  o'clock  a  ride  or  excursion,  and 
reception  of  friends. 

From  four  to  five  o'clock,  rest,  in  neglige,  during 
which  hour,  if  at  all,  she  received  visits  from  Bona- 
parte. Then  a  second  toilet,  and  dinner  at  six  ; 
Bonaparte  rarely  staying  longer  than  twenty  min- 
utes at  the  table. 

In  the  evening  the  ministers,  marshals,  generals, 
etc.,  made  their  calls.  If  the  Emperor  came,  which 
was  never  before  nine,  he  remained  not  to  exceed  a 
quarter-hour,  unless  he  wanted  to  form  a  party  at 
whist, — at  which  he  was  very  inattentive,  being  so 
much  absorbed  in  other  things.  This  party  always 
consisted  of  ladies. 

After  the  game  was  over  he  would  abruptly  leave 
the  salon  ;  but  Josephine  would  remain  until  retir- 
ing-time, though  sometimes  so  fatigued  she  could 
not  sleep,  and  often  lie  awake,  conversing  with  her 
femme-de-garde  till  three  in  the  morning. 

"After  the  adoption  of  the  rigid  court  etiquette," 
says  Madame  de  Remusat,  "  the  wife  of  Napoleon 
was  almost  in  the  same  position  of  dependence  as 
the  ladies  of  her  train.  In  proportion  as  Bona- 
parte's affairs  increased  in  magnitude,  she  became 
a  stranger  to  them. 

"European politics,  the  destiny  of  the  world,  mat- 


JOSEPHINE.  309 

tered  little  to  her  ;  her  thoughts  did  not  reach  to 
heights  which  could  have  no  influence  on  her  own 
fate.  At  this  period  she  was  tranquil  as  to  her  own 
lot  and  happy  in  that  of  her  children,  and  she  lived 
a  life  of  peaceful  indifference,  behaving  to  all  with 
equal  graciousness,  showing  little  or  no  special 
favor  to  any  one,  but  a  general  good  will." 

We  cannot  allude  to  the  numerous  fetes  and  fes- 
tivals that  followed  after  the  coronation.  The  city 
of  Paris  distinguished  itself  by  presenting  to  the 
Empress  a  magnificent  toilet  set  of  gold,  accom- 
panied by  a  speech  from  the  president  of  the  munic- 
ipality in  which  most  complimentary  allusions  were 
made  to  the  beneficent  influence  Josephine  had 
always  exerted  upon  the  morals  of  all  classes  of 
society  since  the  period  of  the  Revolution. 

But  of  all  the  demonstrations  of  which  she  was 
the  object,  perhaps  Josephine  was  touched  the  most 
by  that  from  the  people  of  her  natal  country, 
Martinique.  Upon  the  reception  of  the  news,  the 
islanders  abandoned  themselves  to  the  most  joyous 
demonstrations,  giving  up  an  entire  week  to  fetes 
and  thanksgivings.  Madame  de  La-Pagerie  was 
persuaded  to  emerge  from  her  retreat  at  Sannois 
and  become  the  honored  guest  of  the  Governor  and 
the  admiral  of  the  fleet  who  had  brought  the  glad 
tidings  to  Martinique.  Preceded  by  a  numerous 
cortege  and  leaning  upon  the  arm  of  the  admiral, 
Madame  de  La-Pagerie  was  conducted  to  the  door 
of  the  church  of  Fort  Royal,  where  she  was  received 
by  the  ecclesiastics  and  persuaded  to  take  her  seat 


310  JOSEPHINE. 

upon  a  dais,  like  a  throne,  which  had  been  erected 
in  the  choir. 

After  she  was  thus  seated  in  state,  the  authorities 
took  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  Emperor,  and  a 
Te  Deum  concluded  the  ceremonies. 

The  mother  of  the  Empress  was  then  conducted 
to  the  house  of  the  Governor,  where  a  banquet  was 
spread  with  two  hundred  covers,  at  the  coming  on 
of  night.  The  Governor  presented  the  toast  to  the 
Empress: — "To  her  Majesty,  the  Empress  Jose- 
phine. It  was  reserved  to  grace  and  beauty  to 
share  the  throne  of  France  with  genius  and  victory." 

The  health  of  Madame  de  La-Pagerie  was  : — "  To 
the  mother  of  our  Empress  ;  the  model  of  virtues  in 
the  colony.  France  is  indebted  to  her  for  those 
which  adorn  the  throne  in  the  person  of  her  august 
daughter. " 

Returning  to  Trois  Ilets,  Madame  de  La-Pagerie 
resumed  her  life  of  patriarchal  simplicity,  and 
never  after  left  her  chosen  retreat.  But  the  Creoles 
bestowed  upon  her  the  title  of  the  Empress-Mother, 
and  persisted  in  surrounding  her  with  every  atten- 
tion. 

It  was  while  at  the  summit  of  her  grandeur  that 
Josephine  made  a  last  but  ineffectual  attempt  to 
draw  her  mother  from  her  hermitage  to  join  her 
in  France.  The  addresses  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Martinique  reached  Josephine  just  as  she  was  set- 
ting out  with  the  Emperor  for  Milan,  where  the 
latter  was  to  be  crowned  King  of  Italy. 

This  first  year  of  the  Empire  ought  to  be  con- 


JOSEPHINE.  311 

sidered  the  happiest  of  Josephine's  life.  She  had  no 
desire  to  share  with  her  husband  the  crown  of  Italy, 
and  experienced  no  chagrin  that  he  set  it  upon  his 
head  alone.  Her  cup  of  joy  was  full  when  her 
royal  spouse  bestowed  upon  her  son  Eugene,  the 
title  of  a  Prince  of  the  Empire  and  Archchancellor 
of  State.  And  later,  another  proof  was  given  of 
the  esteem  and  love  Napoleon  felt  for  his  step-son 
in  his  appointment  as  Viceroy  of  Italy.  Rendered 
supremely  happy  by  the  elevation  of  her  son  to  this 
position,  yet  made  temporarily  unhappy  at  the  pros- 
pect of  separation  from  him,  Josephine  left  Milan 
three  days  after  the  proclamation  and  entered  upon 
a  journey  through  the  chief  cities  of  Italy.  She 
revisited  the  scenes  of  her  former  triumphs,  when 
her  husband  was  making  his  conquering  marches 
and  winning  the  name  that  made  all  Europe  tremble, 
and  was  everywhere  received  with  enthusiasm. 
Although  contemplating  a  longer  sojourn  in  this 
country,  their  stay  was  suddenly  terminated  by  the 
news  of  another  coalition  against  Napoleon,  who  at 
once  departed  for  Paris. 

The  Empress  returned  to  the  Tuileries  where  she 
remained  while  Bonaparte  set  in  motion  the  vast 
enginery  of  war,  preparatory  to  the  invasion  of 
Austria.  Josephine  detested  constraint  and  for- 
mality, and,  surrounded  as  she  was  by  the  rigid 
etiquette  of  the  imperial  court,  she  often  repeated 
her  favorite  complaint :  "  Alas,  how  all  this  wearies 
me  ...  I  have  not  a  moment  to  myself.  It  would 
be  better  for  me  were  I  the  wife  of  a  laborer." 


312  JOSEPHINE. 

Soon  after  the  coronation,  a  deputation  of  dis- 
tinguished men  arrived  from  her  native  island, 
Martinique,  to  felicitate  her  on  her  elevation  to 
supreme  power.  After  an  audience  with  the  Em- 
peror, the  deputation  presented  themselves  before 
their  august  countrywoman  and  presented  her  with 
the  following  address :  .  .  .  "  Madame,  the  French 
revere  and  cherish  in  your  Imperial  Majesty,  the 
country  in  which  their  august  sovereign  first  saw 
the  light  of  day,  that  sovereign  who  uses  her  power 
but  to  contribute  to  their  happiness.  Martinique  is 
proud  to  have  had  born  within  her  limits  one  whom 
Providence  had  reserved  for  such  high  destinies,  and 
who  shows  herself  so  worthy  of  her  honors.  This 
colony  is  content  to  shine  in  the  reflected  splendor 
which  surrounds  her.  Its  people  hear  with  joy  that 
mildness  and  beneficence  are  seated  on  the  throne 
by  the  side  of  your  Majesty ;  that  she  is  more 
adorned  by  her  graces  than  by  her  crown  ;  that  the 
advantages  which  are  hers  through  her  high  rank, 
disappear  under  the  charm  of  her  personal  qualities  : 
and,  much  more  touched  by  her  goodness  than  by 
her  grandeur,  they  offer  her  this  homage,  the  out- 
come of  the  purest  sentiment." 

Eeference  having  been  made  to  the  attempts  of 
Josephine  to  draw  her  mother  from  her  island  home, 
in  this  connection,  it  may  be  at  least  relevant  to  in- 
troduce a  few  of  her  letters,  written  at  various  times 
during  the  Consulate  and  the  Empire. 

In  them  all  we  perceive  the  loving  daughter,  the 
dutiful  child,  unstained  by  ambition  and  unspoiled 


JOSEPHINE.  313 

by  the  exercise  of  power.    The  first  of  this  series  is 
dated — 

"  PARIS,  18th  October,  1801.  .  .  . 

"  DEAR  MAMMA, — I  send  this  letter  by  the  frigate 
which  is  despatched  to  Guadeloupe  to  announce  the 
peace  with  England.  .  .  .  It  is  a  long  time,  my  dear 
mamma,  since  we  have  received  news  of  you  ;  but 
we  think  of  you  often,  and  hope  you  are  well.  Are 
you  happy,  and  do  you  still  think  of  your  Yeyette  ? 

"  Eugene,  is  lieutenant-colonel  in  Bonaparte's 
guard  of  cavalry  ;  he  often  expresses  the  desire  to  go 
to  Martinique  to  see  his  grandmamma.  Hortense  is 
now  as  large  as  I  am  ;  she  draws  very  well,  and  at 
this  moment  is  painting  a  picture  of  Bonaparte  tak- 
ing a  walk  in  the  park.  This  picture  she  intends 
for  you. 

"Say  to  my  Uncle  Tascher,  I  pray  you,  that  I  desire 
him  to  come  as  quickly  as  possible  to  Paris,  to  give 
Bonaparte  information  upon  Martinique  ;  he  can 
now  come  by  way  of  London,  as  communication  is 
open  between  France  and  England. 

"Bonaparte  .  .  .  very  much  desires  that  you  will 
come  to  France,  if  you  think  you  can  live  in  a 
climate  so  different  from  yours.  If  you  can  do  so, 
try  to  arrive  in  the  month  of  June.  You  ought  to 
love  Bonaparte,  for  he  makes  your  daughter  very 
happy ;  he  is  good  and  amiable,  in  every  way  a 
charming  man  ;  and,  he  loves  your  Yeyette  very, 
very  much. 

"  Adieu,  my  dear  mamma  ;  I  love  you  with  all  my 


314  JOSEPHINE. 

heart ;  your  grandchildren  join  me  in  embracing 
you. 

ULA  PAGERIE-BONAPARTE. 

"  Remember  me  to  all  my  family  and  friends,  and 
embrace  my  nurse  for  me." 

Seven  months  later,  in  May,  1802,  she  writes  :  .  .  . 

"MY  DEAR  MAMMA  ....  This  letter  I  send  by  the 
hand  of  citizen  Bertin.  The  choice  that  Bonaparte 
has  made  of  him  as  prefect  of  Martinique,  proves 
the  esteem  he  has  for  him,  and  the  care  he  has  for 
the  well-being  of  the  colony.  Citizen  Bertin  will 
give  you  the  latest  news  about  me,  and  will  also 
give  you  a  gold  box,  inlaid  with  diamonds,  on  which 
are  the  portraits  of  Bonaparte,  of  myself,  and  my 
children.  It  is  a  present  to  you  from  my  husband, 
who  hopes  that  it  will  please  you,  and  that  you  will 
enjoy  it  a  long  time.  I  also  wish  to  make  you  a 
present,  my  dear  mamma,  so  I  send  you  a  beautiful 
chaplet  given  me  and  blessed  by  the  hand  of  the 
Holy  Father,  the  Pope.  I  cannot  better  prove  to 
him  the  esteem  in  which  I  hold  his  present,  than  by 
giving  it  to  the  most  virtuous  and  best  of  women.  .  „  . 

' '  Bonaparte  and  I  both  have  the  greatest  desire  that 
you  shall  come  to  live  with  us.  I  hope  that  you  will 
accede  to  our  wishes,  and  the  year  will  not  pass  be- 
fore we  shall  enjoy  this  great  happiness.  I  wrote  to 
you  at  the  time  of  the  marriage  of  your  grand- 
daughter with  one  of  the  brothers  of  Bonaparte. 


JOSEPHINE.  315 

He  is  the  fourth  brother,  and  was  raised  by  Bona- 
parte ;  is  colonel  in  a  -regiment  of  dragoons,  and  is 
only  twenty-three  years  old. 

"They  have  been  married  but  four  months  and 
already  have  sweet  hopes  of  an  heir.  Soon  I  shall 
be  a  grandmother,  but  that  seems  to  me  very 
pleasant. 

"Write  me  often  and  give  me  news  of  all  the 
family. 

' '  Advise  my  uncle  to  come  to  France,  and  to  bring 
us  all  his  boys.  He  ought  also  to  send  me  my  god- 
daughter. I  will  profit  by  every  occasion,  my  dear 
mamma,  to  write  to  you,  and  to  renew  the  assurance 
of  the  tender  attachment  of  your  daughter.  Good- 
bye, dear  and  good  mother  mine.  I  embrace  you 
with  all  my  heart. 

"LA  PAGERIE-BONAPARTE. 

"  I  relinquish  the  pen  to  my  children,  who  wish  to 
write  you.  Write  to  Bonaparte,  it  will  please  him. 
Send  me  all  the  kinds  of  American  seeds,  fruits, 
sweet  potatoes,  bananas,  oranges,  mangos, — in  fact, 
every  kind  you  can.  .  . 

"Kindest  remembrances  to  all  friends." 

Six  months  later,  November,  1802.  .  .  . 

"  Bonaparte  is  now  visiting  Havre,  Rouen,  in 
fact,  all  of  Normandy,  and  I  am  accompanying  him 
on  the  journey.  Judge  of  my  surprise  and  pleasure, 
this  morning,  to  learn  that  a  vessel  was  about  to 


316  JOSEPHINE. 

depart  for  Martinique.  My  pleasure  was  all  the 
greater,  as  there  had  already  set  sail  two  vessels, 
before  I  had  learned  their  intention  to  depart,  and 
therefore  could  not  profit  by  the  occasion  to  write 
you.  .  .  .  However,  Bonaparte,  sailing  near  to  them, 
hailed  the  captain  and  told  them  to  give  you  news 
of  us.  I  am  much  happier,  my  dear  mother,  to 
give  you  this  news  myself,  and  to  assure  you  that 
your  children  and  grandchildren  love  you  very 
much,  have  the  greatest  desire  to  see  you,  and  that 
there  is  but  one  thing  lacking  to  my  happiness,  and 
that  is  to  have  you  near  me.  Give  me,  my  dear 
mother,  this  satisfaction,  and  there  will  be  nothing 
lacking.  Sell  your  property  in  Martinique,  and 
come  buy  some  in  France.  You  ought  to  want  to 
live  here  now,  with  your  children  ;  you  cannot  stay 
there  in  the  colonies,  after  knowing  how  much  they 
wish  you  to  be  with  them.  .  .  . 

"  I  send  you  the  particulars  of  the  accouchement 
of  Hortense ;  three  weeks  ago  she  presented  us  with 
a  beautiful  little  boy.  Bonaparte  will  have  him 
baptized,  on  our  return,  and  will  stand  as  god- 
father, and  I  as  godmother.  He  will  be  called 
Napoleon.  Louis  Bonaparte  wrote  you  to  announce 
his  birth  ;  he  is  the  happiest  of  men,  to  be  a  father, 
and  above  all,  of  a  big  boy.  It  gives  me  pleasure 
to  tell  you  that  their  marriage  is  a  very  happy  one, 
and  that  they  love  each  other  very  much. 

' '  By  this  time  my  brother-in-law,  Jerome  Bona- 
parte, should  be  with  you.  I  am  sure  you  will  like 
him  very  much.  Please  kiss  him  on  one  cheek  for 


JOSEPHINE.  317 

me,  and  give  him  a  little  slap  on  the  other  for  not 
having  written  us.  Eugene  is  with  us  at  Havre, 
and  is  very  well.  Bonaparte  has  just  named  him 
Colonel.  Tascher  is  liked  by  every  one ;  he  is  a 
model  boy,  and  Bonaparte  has  placed  him  in  a 
regiment.  He  is  very  happy.  You  can  assure  my 
uncle,  that  if  he  were  my  own  child,  I  could  not 
love  him  any  better  than  I  do  dear  Tascher.  You 
would  do  well,  my  dear  mamma,  to  profit  by 
the  vessels  which  touch  at  Havre  to  send  me  the 
trees  and  seeds  which  I  asked  you  for.  Send  me 
every  kind  possible,  even  those  which  come  from 
the  woods.  I  send  you  the  papers,  in  which  you 
will  see  the  welcome  Bonaparte  received  at  Rouen  ; 
it  would  be  difficult  to  paint  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
people  wherever  Bonaparte  is  seen. 

"  Adieu,  my  dear  mother  ;  we  embrace  you  with 
all  our  hearts,  and  we  love  you  always  the  same." 

The  letters  during  the  empire  were  in  no  wise 
different  from  those  of  the  consulate,  as  these  two, 
appended,  written  at  intervals  of  two  years,  will 
testify.  Like  the  others,  they  are  extracted  from 
the  archives  of  the  La-Pagerie  family. 

"  PARIS,  30th  January,  1805.  .  . 

"  MY  DEAR  MAMMA — I  send  you  news  by  my 
cousin,  who  sails  for  Martinique.  I  am  sure  you  will 
be  glad  to  learn  from  him  everything  that  concerns 
the  Emperor  and  interests  me.  I  will  not  enter 
into  details,  but  will  give  them  to  him  to  tell  you, 


318  JOSEPHINE. 

that  you  may  know  the  many  proofs  of  attachment 
with  which  my  family  is  loaded  by  the  Emperor, 
and  the  happiness  of  your  daughter.  There  is 
nothing  he  would  not  do  to  see  you  in  France,  and 
as  well  as  myself,  contribute  to  make  your  days 
peaceful  and  happy. 

"  Make  note  of  this,  my  dear  mamma,  and  believe 
that  I  shall  not  be  truly  happy  until  you  have  come 
to  share  my  happiness. 

"Pray  remember  me  to  my  uncle,  and. to  my 
aunt,  Mdlle.  de  La-Pagerie. 

"Write  me  of  everything  that  concerns  you.  I 
shall  assume,  with  pleasure,  all  the  advances  you 
wish  to  make  ;  and  in  this  matter,  as  in  all  others, 
I  pray  you  to  address  me  direct,  and  not  the 
governor  or  any  one  else  ;  it  suffices  me  to  know 
your  desires  to  have  them  gratified.  .  .  .  You  have 
another  grandson  ;  as  I  have  already  announced  to 
you,  the  Princess  Louis  has  given  birth  to  another 
boy,  who  will  be  baptized  by  the  Pope  and  named 
by  the  Emperor. 

"JOSEPHINE. 

"  I  send  you  a  number  of  chaplets  which  have  been 
blessed  by  the  Holy  Father." 

It  was  in  the  month  of  May  that  Napoleon  was 
anointed  King  of  Italy.  That  summer,  the  coali- 
tion between  England,  Eussia,  Sweden,  and  Austria 
was  formed,  by  which  these  nations  hoped  to  hurl 

*  "  Lettres  de  Napoleon  a  Josephine,"  etc. 


JOSEPHINE.  319 

from  his  throne  this  monarch  who  seemed  to  aim 
at  universal  dominion. 

Returning  swiftly  to  France,  by  the  middle  of 
July  Bonaparte  was  at  Fontainebleau  ;  on  the  25th 
of  September  his  army  crossed  the  Rhine  ;  just  a 
month  later,  the  surrender  of  Mack,  at  Ulna,  ter- 
minated this  swift  and  decisive  campaign.  Almost 
the  same  day  of  the  Ulm  surrender  occurred  the 
battle  of  Trafalgar,  by  which  the  French  naval 
marine  was  swept  from  the  sea ;  but  by  his  achieve- 
ments on  land  Bonaparte  retrieved  his  losses  on  the 
ocean. 

Dec.  2d,  1805,  the  terrible  battle  of  Austerlitz 
swept  the  Russians  and  Austrians  from  his  path, 
the  first  anniversary  of  his  coronation.  Swift  was 
he  to  avenge  the  treachery  of  his  enemies  ;  terrible 
to  punish  ;  his  maneuvers  and  combinations  were 
the  alarm  and  the  admiration  of  his  foes.  Yet, 
fascinating  as  it  might  be  to  follow  this  genius  of 
battles  in  his  unexampled  career  of  conquest,  we 
must  not  allow  ourselves  to  be  diverted  from  the 
object  in  view  :  to  show  Napoleon  in  his  relation  to 
his  loving  and  loyal  spouse. 

Josephine  accompanied  him  as  far  as  Strasbourg, 
in  order  to  be  near  the  scene  of  conflict,  that  she 
might  receive  quickly  the  tidings  of  his  victories. 
For  her  faith  in  Napoleon  never  wavered ;  it  did 
not  seem  to  occur  to  her  that  he  could  be  other 
than  victorious.  She  had  changed,  since  the  Italian 
campaign,  when,  as  we  have  seen,  she  hesitated 
long  before  setting  out  for  the  cities  of  Italy.  Now 


320  JOSEPHINE. 

she  could  not  be  near  enough  to  her  husband,  could 
not  be  satisfied  unless  permitted  to  accompany  him 
on  all  his  campaigns. 

Again,  there  had  been  a  change  in  Napoleon ;  this 
change  we  will  show  in  his  letters,  written  in  the 
heat  of  battle,  as  during  the  Italian  conquests  ;  still 
breathing  regard  and  deep  attachment,  though  not 
pervaded  by  the  fire  of  passion,  as  at  that  earlier 
period.  The  whole  world  knew  of  his  achievements, 
many  years  ago  ;  former  generations  followed  upon 
the  course  of  his  victories ;  but  few  have  been 
cognizant  of  the  heart-history  of  this  wonderful 
man  and  the  beloved  companion  of  his  agitated  life. 

We  do  not  find  in  these  later  letters  that  exuber- 
ance, that  amorous  exaggeration,  of  the  first.  The 
lover  of  twenty-six  is  now  thirty-seven  ;  the  general 
of  the  army,  then  just  rising  into  fame,  is  now 
Emperor  of  France ;  his  genius  has  expanded,  but 
his  heart  is  the  same.  As  in  Italy,  we  find  the 
names  of  his  immortal .  battle-fields  in  conjunction 
with  expressions  of  love  and  solicitude  ;  but  now 
they  are  those  made  famous  by  his  exploits  on  this 
wonderful  campaign  :  Ulm,  Austerlitz,  Jena,  Eylau, 
Friedland,  and  Wagram. 

It  was  on  the  first  of  October  that  Bonaparte 
took  command  of  his  army  ;  the  next  day  he  wrote 
the  first  letter  to  Josephine,  from  Manheim  :  "I 
am  still  here  and  in  good  health.  .  The  grand 
maneuvers  have  begun  ;  the  army  of  Wurtemburg 
and  Baden  is  now  united  with  mine.  I  am  in 
good  position,  and  I  love  thee.  .  .  .  NAPOLEON." 


JOSEPHINE.  321 

On  the  fourth  of  October  he  writes  :  "I  am  at 
Louisburg.  There  is  nothing  new  ;  my  army  is  on 
the  march  ;  the  weather  is  superb.  I  have  com- 
pleted my  union  with  the  Bavarian  Army.  I  am  in 
the  best  of  health.  I  expect  in  a  few  days  to  have 
something  interesting  to  write  you.  (As  indeed  he 
did  have. )  Take  good  care  of  thy  health,  and  believe 
me,  ever  thine."  * 

The  next  day  he  writes  :  .  .  .  "  I  leave  immediately 
to  continue  the  march.  Thou  wilt  be,  my  friend, 
five  or  six  days  without  news  from  me;  but  do 
not  let  that  trouble  thee.  Everything  is  going 
well  and  as  I  expected.  I  have  just  assisted  at 
the  marriage  of  the  son  of  the  Elector  with  a 
niece  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  and  I  desire  to  make 
them  a  marriage  present  of  some  thirty-five  or 
forty  thousand  francs.  Please  select  it  and  send  by 
one  of  my  chamberlains  when  he  returns  to  rejoin 
me.  Adieu,  my  friend  ;  I  love  and  embrace  thee." 

As  the  Emperor  had  announced  to  Josephine,  five 
or  six  days  passed  without  news  of  him  ;  but  then 


*  "  I  never  heard  of  any  one  tutoyer  the  First  Consul.  He  did  so 
by  many  of  them,  by  Junot  to  the  last ;  it  was  only  on  ascending  the 
throne  that  he  ceased  to  address  them  in  this  familiar  style  in  public. 
In  the  cordial  intercourse  of  private  friendship  he  continued  to  use 
the  pronoun  t/jow." — Duchesse  d' Abrantes.  • 

[This  is  the  style  throughout  in  Bonaparte's  letters  to  Josephine  ; 
but,  as  the  faniiliar  tutoying  would  seem  very  strange  in  English,  you 
has  been  substituted  for  thee  and  thou. 

In  the  latter  letters,  however,  the  familiar  style  has  been  preserved 
in  the  translation,  in  order  to  show  Bonaparte's  attitude  towards  his 
wife — that  his  feelings  had  not  changed.] 

21 


322  JOSEPHINE. 

the  interruption  was  explained  by  the  tidings  of  his 
successful  engagement  at  Elchingen.  He  writes 
from  Augsburg  :  "  I  am  quartered  with  the  old 
Elector  of  Treves,  who  is  very  well  housed.  I  have 
been  on  the  move  for  a  week.  The  campaign  has 
opened  auspiciously.  I  am  very  well,  though  it  has 
rained  nearly  every  day.  Events  have  followed  one 
another  rapidly.  I  have  sent  to  France  4,000 
prisoners  and  eight  flags,  and  have  forty  cannon, 
taken  from  the  enemy.  Adieu,  my  friend,  I  em- 
brace thee." 

After  the  surrender  of  Ulm  :  "  I  am  in  pretty 
good  health,  my  good  friend.  ...  I  have  taken 
sixty  or  seventy  thousand  prisoners,  more  than 
ninety  flags,  and  two  hundred  pieces  of  cannon.  .  .  . 
Take  good  care  of  thyself.  I  am  a  little  tired. 
The  weather  has  been  fair  the  three  days  past.  The 
first  columns  of  prisoners  start  to-day  for  France, 
six  thousand  men  in  each  column." 

Having  taken  her  station  as  near  the  theater  of 
events  as  Napoleon  would  allow  her  to  be,  at  Stras- 
burg,  Josephine  transmitted  to  her  daughter  and 
to  Joseph  Bonaparte  the  news  received  from  her 
husband.  She  writes  to  Hortense,  on  the  22d  of 
October  :  .  .  .  "I  have  promised,  my  dear  Hor- 
tense, to  Prince  Joseph,  who  has  written  me  a 
charming  letter,  to  send  a  courier  with  the  first 
news  received.  M.  de  Thiars  wrote  me,  by  order  of 
the  Emperor,  all  the  details  of  our  recent  successes, 
and  I  immediately  transmitted  them  to  Prince 
Joseph,  with  the  request  that  he  would  send  to  thee 


JOSEPHINE.  323 

and  to  thy  husband.  To-day  I  received  a  letter 
from  the  Emperor,  which  I  send  to  thee,  feeling 
sure  that  it  will  give  thee  the  same  pleasure  as  it 
did  me.  Kindly  preserve  it  and  return  to  me  when 
I  see  thee. 

"All  of  the  Emperor's  staff  are  well ;  not  a  single 
general  was  wounded,  which  news  you  will  give  to 
all  the  ladies  whose  husbands  are  in  the  army.  On 
Thursday  they  will  chant  a  Te  Deum,  and  the  same 
day  I  shall  give  a  fete  to  the  ladies  of  Strasburg. 

' '  Adieu,  my  dear  Hortense,  I  love  thee  with  all 
my  heart  and  embrace  thee.  A  thousand  loving 
messages  to  thy  husband  and  children." 

Arrived  at  Munich,  where  the  people  received  with 
joy  their  deliverer,  Bonaparte  took  much-needed 
repose,  and  wrote  more  at  length  to  his  wife  of  the 
astonishing  events  of  this  miraculous  campaign. 
Josephine  renewed  her  entreaties  for  permission 
to  rejoin  him  there,  but  the  Emperor  declined  to 
allow  her  to  risk  the  journey. 

"  I  am  very  desirous  to  see  thee,"  he  wrote,  "  but 
cannot  call  thee  hither  until  an  armistice  be  con- 
cluded or  we  shall  have  gone  into  winter  quarters. 
A  thousand  kisses,  my  dear  friend." 

It  was  impossible  that  she  should  join  him,  for 
the  army  was  soon  pressing  on  again  ;  not  long 
after  she  received  a  letter  from  the  Austrian  capi- 
tal, six  weeks  only  after  he  had  quitted  the  Seine  :  .  .  . 
"  I  have  been  here  two  days,  my  good  friend.  I 
am  somewhat  fatigued.  I  have  not  yet  seen  the 
city  by  day  ;  we  entered  in  the  night.  To-morrow 


324  JOSEPHINE. 

I  receive  the  notables.  Nearly  all  my  troops  are 
beyond  the  Danube,  in  pursuit  of  the  Kussians. 

"Adieu,  my  Josephine  ;  the  first  moment  I  find  it 
possible,  I  will  have  thee  come  to  me.  A  thousand 
loving  messages  for  thee." 

In  this  simple  language  did  the  conqueror 
announce  to  his  consort  his  occupation  of  the  en- 
emies' capital. 


JOSEPHINE.  325 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

AUSTERLITZ  TO  WAGRAM. 

MASTER  of  Austria,  the  Emperor  was  then  able 
to  accede  to  Josephine's  repeated  entreaties  and 
allow  her  to  approach  somewhat  nearer  to  the  seat 
of  war.  The  16th  November  he  wrote  her  to  pro- 
ceed to  the  capital  of  Bavaria,  where  she  would  find 
a  beautiful  palace  at  her  disposal,  and  would  meet 
with  a  good  reception. 

He  promised  to  rejoin  her  there  as  soon  as  he 
should  have  completed  his  campaign  against  the 
Russians  ;  and,  though  so  occupied  with  schemes  of 
the  greatest  magnitude  :  with  one  hand  fighting  the 
enemies  of  his  country  and  with  the  other  govern- 
ing the  country  of  which  he  was  the  ruler,  he  yet 
found  time  to  write  her  most  minutely  respecting 
her  conduct  and  intercourse  with  the  authorities. 
She  was  to  remember  that  the  Electrice  of  Bavaria 
was  a  daughter  of  the  King  of  England,  though 
apparently  well  disposed,  etc. 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  thee,  the  moment  my 
affairs  will  permit.  I  am  about  leaving  for  my 
advance  guard.  The  weather  is  horrible  ;  it  snows 


326  JOSEPHINE. 

continually  ;  for  the  rest,  everything  is  going  well. 
Adieu,  my  good  friend. 

"  NAPOLEON." 

Josephine  did  not  forget  that  she  was  Empress  of 
France,  wife  of  the  invincible  Napoleon  ;  and  at  the 
Bavarian  court  she  impressed  every  one  with  her 
gentle  dignity  of  character  as  well  as  by  her  grace. 
Thus  she  followed  after  the  victorious  army,  gather- 
ing up  the  fruits  of  battles,  cementing  the  ties  new 
formed  and  sealing  to  her  and  to  her  spouse  the 
hearts  of  the  vanquished  and  liberated. 

While  Josephine  was  performing  this  journey  to 
Munich,  occurred  the  greatest  of  Bonaparte's 
triumphs  :  the  victory  of  Austerlitz. 

Immediately  after  the  battle,  while  yet  the  cries  of 
the  wounded  arose  from  the  smoking  field  of  con- 
flict, Napoleon  wrote  to  his  wife  three  letters,  one 
after  the  other,  which  give  sufficient  testimony  of 
his  affectionate  interest  in  her  welfare. 

The  first  : 

"AUSTERLITZ,  3d  December,  1805. 

"  I  have  sent  to  thee  Lebrun,  from  the  field  of 
battle.  I  have  beaten  the  Kussian  and  Austrian 
armies  commanded  in  person  by  the  two  Emperors. 
I  am  a  little  fatigued ;  I  have  bivouacked  a  week 
in  the  open  air  ;  to-night  I  sleep  in  the  chateau  of 
the  Prince  de  Kaunitz.  The  Russian  army  is  not 
only  defeated,  but  destroyed.  .  .  .  I  embrace  thee." 

"  AUSTERLITZ,  5th  December.  .  .  . 

"  I  have  concluded  a  truce.         .  The  battle  of 


JOSEPHINE.  327 

Austerlitz  is  the  greatest  I  have  ever  fought :  forty- 
five  flags,  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  pieces  of 
cannon,  the  standards  of  the  Russian  guard,  twenty 
generals,  thirty  thousand  prisoners,  more  than 
twenty  thousand  killed  :  a  horrible  spectacle.  The 
Emperor  Alexander  is  in  despair  and  has  set  out  for 
Russia.  I  met  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  yesterday, 
at  my  bivouac,  and  conversed  with  him  for  two  hours  ; 
we  are  agreed  to  make  peace  quickly.  ...  I  look 
forward  with  pleasure  to  the  moment  when  I  may 
join  thee.  Adieu,  my  good  friend  ;  my  health  contin- 
ues good,  and  I  am  very  desirous  to  embrace  thee." 

"  AUSTERLITZ,  7th  December.  .  .  . 

"  I  have  concluded  an  armistice  ;  within  a  week 
peace  will  be  made.  I  desire  to  know  if  you  have 
reached  Munich,  and  in  good  health.  .  .  .  The 
Russians  have  lost  immensely  :  more  than  twenty 
thousand  killed  and  thirty  thousand  prisoners ; 
their  army  is  reduced  two-thirds  ;  their  general- 
in-chief  is  killed.  I  have  three  thousand  wounded 
and  seven  or  eight  hundred  killed.  I  have  a  little 
trouble  with  my  eyes,  but  it  will  soon  pass.  .  .  . 
Adieu,  my  friend,  I  greatly  desire  to  see  thee." 

But  Josephine  was  no  more  prompt  in  her  replies 
to  Napoleon's  letters  than  during  the  campaign  in 
Italy,  and  more  than  twenty  days  passed  without 
news  from  her.  The  Emperor  experienced  anew 
the  irritations  of  former  times,  and  wrote  her  from 
Brunn,  where  he  was  detained  while  arranging  the 
terms  of  the  peace.  .  .  . 


328  .  JOSEPHINE. 

"  It  is  a  long  while  since  I  have  received  news 
from  thee.  Have  the  fine  fetes  of  Baden,  Stuttgart 
and  Munich  made  thee  forget  the  poor  soldiers 
covered  with  mud,  drenched  with  rain  and  blood  ? 
I  soon  leave  for  Vienna.  We  are  working  hard  to 
accomplish  the  peace.  The  Russians  have  fled  to 
their  own  country,  well  beaten  and  very  humiliated. 
I  should  like  above  all  things  to  be  near  thee. 
Adieu,  my  friend  ;  my  eyes  are  cured." 

The  silence  of  Josephine  still  continued,  and  he 
then  addressed  one  more  appeal,  in  a  tone  of  solemn 
pleasantry. 

"  GREAT  EMPRESS, — Not  a  single  line  from  you 
since  your  departure  from  Strasburg.  You  have 
visited  Baden,  .Stuttgart,  and  Munich,  without 
having  written  me  a  word  ;  that  does  not  show  much 
tenderness  or  affection.  .  .  .  Deign,  from  the  height 
of  your  grandeur,  to  bestow  a  thought  upon  your 
slave.  .  .  .  NAPOLEON." 

She  certainly  owed  to  him,  who  had  raised  her  to 
this  height  of  grandeur,  more  than  this  indifference, 
We  cannot  believe  that  she  was  sensible  of  his 
deep  devotion,  and  it  cannot  be  denied  that  she  in  a 
measure  merited  the  fate  that  later  followed  her  in 
the  act  of  divorce.  Less  explicable  is  the  patience 
of  Napoleon  with  her  continued  frivolities,  than  his 
toleration  of  them. 

Her  excuse,  given  in  a  letter  which  he  found 
awaiting  him  at  Vienna  was  indisposition  ;  yet  she 


JOSEPHINE.  329 

solicited  permission  to  join  him  in  the  Austrian 
capital. 

"  I  have  received  thy  letter,"  he  promptly  answered 
her,  "and  note  with  pain  that  thou  art  suffering  ; 
but  it  is  not  a  good  condition  in  which  to  make  a 
long  journey,  at  this  season.  I  do  not  know  what 
I  shall  do  ;  it  depends  upon  events.  .  .  .  Remain  at 
Munich,  amuse  thyself  :  that  is  not  difficult,  sur- 
rounded as  thou  art  by  interesting  persons  and  in 
such  a  beautiful  country.  I  myself  am  very  much 
occupied.  In  a  few  days  I  will  decide.  Adieu,  my 
friend  ;  a  thousand  loving  and  tender  messages." 

Soon  after,  on  the  26th  of  December,  the  treaty  of 
Presburg  was  signed,  and  the  Emperor  hastened  to 
rejoin  the  Empress  at  Munich.  Her  joy  at  seeing 
her  royal  spouse  returned  safe  from  the  wars  was 
doubled  by  his  assurance  that  he  intended  to  solicit 
the  hand  of  the  Princess  Augusta,  daughter  of  the 
Elector  of  Bavaria,  for  her  son,  Eugene.  Her  own 
opinion  of  the  Princess  was  expressed  in  a  letter  to 
Hortense,  in  which  she  describes  her  as  of  most 
charming  character  and  beautiful  as  an  angel.  The 
wedding  followed  in  due  course,  four  days  after 
Eugene's  arrival  from  Italy,  to  which  country  the 
young  Viceroy  soon  returned  with  his  beautiful 
bride.  The  same  day  Bonaparte  and  the  Empress 
started  for  Paris,  where  they  arrived  on  the  night 
of  the  26th  January,  1806. 

Josephine  had  the  pleasure  to  find  there  her  uncle, 
the  Chevalier,  Baron  de  Tascher,  recently  arrived 
from  Martinique,  and  whom  she  had  not  seen  for 


330  JOSEPHINE. 

fifteen  years.  His  sister,  Mme.  de  Benaudin,  and  the 
Marquis  de  Beauharnais,  whom  she  had  married 
late  in  life,  had  both  deceased  during  the  Consulate. 
The  only  one  of  the  old  household  remaining  was 
the  Countess  Fanny  de  Beauharnais,  who  was  pass- 
ing her  old  age  in  the  cultivation  of  the  muses. 

The  Countess  Fanny  had  a  son,  the  Count  Claude, 
whose  daughter,  Stephanie,  became  the  protege  of 
Josephine,  who  had  her  educated,  and  for  whose 
future  Napoleon  provided,  by  marrying  her  to  the 
Prince  of  Baden. 

Stephanie  became  the  spoiled  child  of  the  Court ; 
it  is  related  that  the  sisters  of  Napoleon  were  offended 
at  certain  favors  bestowed  upon  her,  and  especially 
because  she  was  exempt  from  standing  in  their 
presence.  She  complained  to  Napoleon  that  they 
would  not  allow  her  to  be  seated,  when  he  said  to 
her  :  "Well,  then,  come  sit  on  my  knee  ;  you  will 
not  incommode  them  there." 

She  objected  to  the  manner  of  her  marriage  with 
the  Prince  of  Baden,  and  for  a  long  time  treated 
him  with  disdain  ;  but  finally  left  the  Court  with  him 
and  was  taken  to  the  home  he  had  provided  for  her. 
This  was  the  second  alliance  Napoleon  had  con- 
tracted in  behalf  of  the  adopted  relatives  of  his  wife  ; 
that  of  the  Viceroy  and  the  Princess  of  Bavaria  was 
perhaps  the  only  one  that  had  happy  issuance. 

The  Baron  de  Tascher  died  suddenly,  a  month 
after  the  return  of  Josephine  and  Napoleon  to  Paris, 
surrounded  by  his  children,  whom  he  recommended 
to  the  attention  of  the  Emperor. 


JOSEPHINE.  331 

The  year  1806  witnessed  two  crowns  upon  the 
brows  of  Bonaparte's  brothers  :  Louis,  king  of 
Holland,  and  Joseph,  king  of  Naples.  Dukedoms 
and  principalities  were  parceled  out  to  the  members 
of  his  family  and  his  Court,  and  the  imperial 
authority  strengthened  by  these  parvenu  princes 
and  their  retainers. 

The  confederation  of  the  Rhine  was  formed,  with 
Bonaparte  as  protector,  in  July,  and  the  German 
empire  was  dissolved  in  August. 

The  departure  of  Queen  Hortense,  in  June,  was 
a  subject  of  grief  to  Josephine,  who  felt  for  her 
daughter  the  liveliest  sympathy,  and  in  whose  society 
she  spent  a  great  portion  of  her  time. 

For  the  unhappy  issue  of  the  marriage  of  Hortense 
with  Louis  Bonaparte  Josephine  must  have  felt 
somewhat  responsible,  and  possibly  remorseful. 
Both  the  Empress  and  the  Emperor  strove  to  heal 
the  ever- widening  breach  between  this  ill-assorted 
couple. 

Josephine's  letters  to  her  daughter  are  replete  with 
tenderness  and  filled  with  solicitude  : 

"Since  thy  departure,"  she  wrote  a  month  later, 
"I  have  been  quite  ill  with  fever,  but  chiefly  from 
chagrin  at  thy  absence.  How  can  I  endure  this 
separation  from  thee,  from  my  daughter,  so  sweet, 
so  tender  and  loving  as  thou,  who  art  the  charm  of 
my  life  ?  My  God  !  I  am  so  sad  because  I  cannot 
see  thee  often.  And  thy  health,  my  dear  Hortense, 
is  it  good  ?  If  thou  art  ever  sick,  let  me  know  at 
once,  and  I  will  hasten  to  the  side  of  my  best- 


332  JOSEPHINE. 

beloved.  .  .  .  Adieu,  my  dear  Hor tense,  my  darling 
daughter  ;  think  often  of  thy  mother,  and  persuade 
thyself  that  never  was  daughter  loved  as  thou  art." 

Hortense  had  been  united  in  marriage  to  Louis 
Bonaparte,  on  the  7th  of  January,  1802.  Of  this 
union,  Bonaparte  said  at  Saint  Helena  :  speaking 
of  Louis  and  Hortense  :  "  They  loved  each  other 
when  they  were  married  ;  they  desired  to  be  united  : 
the  marriage  was  also  the  result  of  Josephine's 
intrigues,  who  found  her  account  in  it." 

The  Duchess  d'Abrantes,  who  was  intimate  with 
her  family,  pays  a  well-meant  tribute  to  her  char- 
acter :  .  .  . 

"  In  September  '95,  she  was  entrusted  to  the  care 
of  Madame  Campan,  formerly  a  lady-in-waiting  to 
Marie  Antoinette,  who  at  that  time  kept  a  boarding- 
school  in  which  were  revived  all  the  social  and 
religious  traditions  of  the  old  regime.  .  .  .  Among 
her  companions  were  Stephanie  de  Beauharnais,  the 
future  Grand  Duchess  of  Baden ;  Caroline  Bona- 
parte, future  queen  of  Naples ;  Elisa  Munroe, 
daughter  of  a  future  president  of  the  United  States. 
.  .  .  She  was  light-hearted  and  happy. 

"  Bonaparte  was  as  fond  of  her  as  though  she  were 
his  own  child.  He  used  to  say  of  her :  '  Hortense 
makes  me  believe  in  virtue.' 

"She  was  likely  to  fall  in  love  with  Duroc  ;  but 
was-  forced  to  marry  Louis  Bonaparte.  The  civil 
ceremony  took  place  January  3, 1802,  at  the  Tuileries, 
in  the  presence  of  the  Bonaparte  and  Beauharnais 
families.  Mass  was  not  yet  said  in  this  palace,  and 


JOSEPHINE.  333 

it  was  in  the  house  in  the  Rue  de  la  Victoire,  where 
Josephine  lived  when  she  married  Napoleon,  that 
the  marriage  took  place. 

"  A  polished  and  well-conducted  education  had 
improved  her  natural  talents  ;  she  drew  excellently, 
sang  harmoniously,  and  performed  admirably  in 
comedy. 

"  In  1800  she  was  a  charming  young  girl ;  she  after- 
wards became  one  of  the  most  amiable  princesses 
of  Europe.  I  have  seen  many,  both  in  their  own 
courts  and  in  Paris,  but  I  have  never  known  one  who 
had  any  pretensions  to  equal  talents.  She  was 
beloved  by  every  one,  though  of  all  who  surrounded 
her  her  mother  seemed  to  be  the  least  conscious 
of  her  attractions.  .  .  .  Her  brother  loved  her 
tenderly ;  the  First  Consul  looked  upon  her  as  his 
child  ;  and  it  was  only  in  that  country,  so  fertile  in 
the  inventions  of  scandal,  that  so  foolish  an  accusa- 
tion could  have  been  imagined  as  that  any  feeling 
less  pure  than  paternal  affection  actuated  his  con- 
duct towards  her.  The  vile  calumny  met  with  the 
contempt  it  merited,  and  is  now  only  remembered 
to  be  confuted. 

"Hortense,  in  fact,  while  she  was  Mademoiselle 
Beauharnais,  regarded  Napoleon  with  respectful 
awe.  She  trembled  when  she  spoke  to  him,  and 
never  dared  to  ask  him  a  favor.  When  she  had 
anything  to  solicit  she  applied  to  me  ;  and  if  I 
experienced  any  difficulty  in  obtaining  for  her  what 
I  sought,  I  mentioned  her  as  the  person  for  whom  I 
pleaded.  'The  little  simpleton,'  Napoleon  would 


334  JOSEPHINE. 

say,  '  why  does  she  not  ask  me  herself  ;  is  the  girl 
afraid  of  me?'" 

A  new  coalition  was  formed,  at  the  instigation 
of  England,  between  Russia  and  Prussia,  against 
France.  With  his  usual  promptitude,  Napoleon 
hurled  himself  against  the  allied  armies,  and  soon 
reduced  them  to  the  condition  of  the  Russians  and 
Austrians,  the  year  before.  He  left  Saint  Cloud 
on  the  25th  September,  and  just  a  month  later  he 
was  master  of  Germany,  issuing  his  commands  from 
its  capital.  After  having  installed  the  Empress  at 
Mayence  (for  she  insisted  upon  accompanying  him 
to  a  point  as  near  as  possible  to  the  seat  of  war), 
Napoleon,  011  the  first  of  October,  formally  opened 
the  campaign.  A  week  later  he  wrote  :  .  .  .  "  My 
friend  : — All  my  army  is  in  motion.  Everything  is 
going  well,  and  my  health  is  perfect.  A  thousand 
kisses  and  good  health." 

On  the  13th,  in  the  night,  and  probably  in  the 
midst  of  those  mighty  combinations  which  resulted 
in  the  overthrow  of  the  Prussian  hosts  the  next  day, 
at  the  battle  of  Jena,  he  wrote  to  Josephine  :  .  .  . 
"My  good  friend,  everything  is  moving  well,  just 
as  I  had  expected.  With  the  aid  of  God,  in  a  few 
days  I  will  be  able  to  assume  a  character  likely  to 
trouble  the  poor  King  of  Prussia,  whom  I  pity,  as 
personally  he  is  a  good  man.  The  Queen  is  at 
Erfurth  with  the  King.  If  she  wishes  to  witness  a 
battle,  she  will  surely  have  that  dreadful  pleasure. 
I  am  marvelously  well,  and  have  gained  flesh,  not- 
withstanding I  have  traveled  at  the  rate  of  twenty 


JOSEPHINE.  335 

and  twenty-five  leagues  a  day,  on  horseback,  in 
voiture,  in  every  way  possible.  Ever  thine." 

It  was  the  voice  of  the  warrior,  of  the  great 
captain,  in  the  midst  of  war's  alarms,  rejoicing  in 
his  strength,  performing  prodigies  of  valor  and  con- 
founding his  enemies  by  his  magnificent  combina- 
tions. 

Two  days  passed,  and  then,  after  the  terrible 
battle,  he  writes  to  his  Queen  of  the  events  of  the 
dreadful  day  of  Jena.  .  .  . 

"JENA,  loth  October,  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"My  Friend  .  .  .  I  have  accomplished  the  grand- 
est of  achievements  against  the  Prussians.  I  gained, 
yesterday,  a  great  victory.  There  were  150,000 
men  ;  I  took  20,000  prisoners,  100  pieces  of  cannon 
and  flags.  I  was  at  one  time  near  the  King,  whom 
I  just  missed  capturing,  as  well  as  the  Queen.  We 
have  bivouacked  for  two  days.  I  was  never  better. 
Adieu,  my  friend  ;  take  care  of  thy  health,  and  love 
me." 

The  delay  in  summoning  her  to  join  him,  gave 
Josephine  occasion  to  indulge  in  a  fit  of  jealousy, 
and  she  doubtless  accused  her  absent  spouse  of  some 
indiscretion  since  he  rejoined  :..."!  have  re- 
ceived thy  letter  of  the  27th  of  November,  by  which 
I  see  that  thy  little  head  is  turned.  I  am  reminded 
of  this  verse.  .  .  .  '  Desir  de  femme  est  un  feu  qui 
devore '.  .  .  .  Please  calm  thyself.  I  have  already 
written  thee  that  when  winter  quarters  are  estab- 
lished I  will  send  for  thee." 


836  JOSEPHINE. 

It  having  been  found  impossible  to  send  for  the 
Empress,  Napoleon  ordered  her  to  return  to  Paris, 
and  she  reached  the  capital  about  the  last  of 
January,  1807.  His  letters  of  this  month  are  loving 
and  frequent,  though  it  was  at  this  time  Napoleon 
met  and  fell  in  love  with  the  beautiful  Polish 
woman,  the  Countess  Walewski,  who,  more  than 
any  other,  affected  his  later  life. 

Josephine  received  intimations  of  this  new  infatu- 
ation of  the  Emperor,  which  her  instinctive  jealousy 
had  foreseen,  and  was  rendered  extremely  uneasy, 
without  being  able  to  combat  her  unseen  foe. 

The  winter  passed  away  and  the  summer  ;  finally 
occurred  the  decisive  battle  of  Friedland,  when  the 
Russians  were  totally  defeated. 

It  was  in  January,  1807,  that  Napoleon  met  the 
woman  he  came  nearest  to  loving  after  Josephine  : 
the  Countess  Walewski,  whom  he  first  saw  when  in 
Poland.  He  was  enamored  of  her  at  first  sight, 
but  she  at  first  repulsed  his  advances,  and  only 
yielded  upon  the  representation  of  her  friends,  and 
even  of  her  relatives,  that  she  should  do  so  in  the 
interests  of  Poland.  Notwithstanding  the  harsh- 
ness of  her  wooing,  she  became  strongly  attached 
to  Bonaparte  ;  when  he  returned  to  Paris  she  was 
established  there,  and  bore  him  a  son,  on  the  fourth 
of  May,  1810.  In  her  own  country  she  was  regarded 
as  a  martyr,  a  victim  for  the  good  of  Poland,  and 
was  not  censured  for  her  infidelity  to  her  husband. 
She  clung  to  Napoleon's  fortunes  to  the  last,  visiting 
him  at  Elba,  having  in  her  company  their  little  son. 


JOSEPHINE.  337 

But  after  his  exile  to  Saint  Helena  she  gave  up  all 
hope  of  meeting  him  again,  and,  her  first  husband 
being  dead,  married  a  certain  Count  d'Ornano  ;  but 
died  in  December,  the  same  year,  1818. 

This  was  undoubtedly  the  grand  passion  of  Napo- 
leon's later  life,  and  his  attachment  for  its  object 
lasted  the  longest.  It  is  a  sad  comment  upon  his 
character,  that  he  was  never  more  alive  to  the  great 
worth  of  his  wife  than  at  this  time  ;  at  no  time 
had  he  seemed  so  thoroughly  attached  to  her. 

Mme.  de  Remusat  confirms  this  story  of  the 
' '  Polish  lady, "  and  adds  :  ' '  This  extraordinary  woo- 
ing did  not,  however,  prevent  the  young  lady  from 
becoming  attached  to  the  Emperor,  for  their  liaison 
was  prolonged  during  several  campaigns.  .  .  .  A  son 
was  born,  who  became  the  object  of  the  hopes  of 
Poland.  ..."  etc.* 

The  ninth  of  February,  immediately  after  the 
terrible  battle  of  Eylau,  Napoleon  had  written  to 
his  wife  :  .  .  .  "  My  friend,  a  great  battle  took  place 
yesterday  ;  victory  rested  with  me,  but  I  lost  much  ; 
the  loss  of  the  enemy,  which  is  vastly  more  than 

*  Consult  "  Napoleon,  Lover  and  Husband,"  for  particulars  of  this 
strange  affair. 

"  The  Emperor  and  all  the  French  officers  paid  their  tribute  of 
admiration  to  the  charms  of  the  fair  Poles.  There  was  one  whose 
powerful  fascinations  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  Emperor's 
heart.  He  conceived  an  ardent  affection  for  her,  which  she  cordially 
returned.  She  received  with  pride  the  homage  of  a  conquest  which 
was  the  consummation  of  her  happiness  (?)  It  is  needless  to  name 
her,  when  I  observe  that  her  attachment  remained  unshaken  amidst 
every  danger,  and  that  at  the  period  of  Xapoleon'  s  reverses  she  con- 
tinued his  faithful  friend. — Memoirs  of  the  Duke  of  Rovigo. 

22 


338  JOSEPHINE, 

ours,  does  not  console  me.  I  write  these  few  lipes 
with  my  own  hand,  though  I  am  nearly  dead  with 
fatigue,  in  order  to  tell  thee  that  I  am  well,  and  that 
I  love  thee.  ...  It  was  a  horrible  battle  ;  the  coun- 
try is  covered  with  the  dead  ;  my  soul  is  sick  at  the 
sight  of  so  many  victims.  ...  Do  not  grieve,  I  pray 
thee,  all  will  be  finished  soon,  and  in  the  happiness 
of  seeing  thee  I  shall  forget  all  my  fatigues." 

The  Russians  were  beaten,  but  not  defeated,  and 
Bonaparte  would  not  leave  the  field  until  he  had  forced 
a  definitive  peace.  Meanwhile,  at  Paris,  Joseph- 
ine had,  by  his  orders,  carried  out  her  part  in  the  im- 
perial programme  by  entertaining  at  the  Tuileries 
a  gay  and  distinguished  company.  Hearing  that 
the  Empress  had  visited  some  of  the  ateliers  and 
museums  without  much  ceremony,  and  in  a  style 
not  comportable  to  her  rank,  he  wrote  her  a  letter  of 
reproach,  in  which,  for  the  first  time,  he  makes 
use  of  the  word  you,  instead  of  the  thou,  which 
was  his  custom  in  familiar  intercourse.  This  lapse 
from  his  accustomed  tone  of  tenderness  was  very 
afflicting  to  Josephine,  who  complained  of  it,  and 
he  redoubled  his  attentions  in  the  letters  follow- 
ing :  "I  have  received,"  said  he,  "thy  letter  of  the 
5th  of  April,  in  which  I  see  with  pain  that  thou  art 
vexed  at  something  I  have  said.  .  .  .  Thy  little 
Creole  head  is  turned,  thou  art  afflicted  !  Well,  we 
will  say  no  more  about  it.  .  .  Thou  must  not  think 
of  coming  hither,  that  is  impossible.  .  .  .  There  are 
many  things  I  would  prefer  to  war,  but  duty  must 
be  held  above  everything  else.  .  .  .  All  my  life  I 


JOSEPHINE.  339 

have  sacrificed  :  tranquillity,  interest,  happiness,  to 
my  destiny." 

His  destiny;  it  was  ever  this  implacable  " des- 
tiny," which  resounded  in  the  ears  of  Josephine,  fore- 
boding the  fate  that  was  to  be  hers  ! 

He  was  then  deep  in  his  amour  with  the  Countess 
Walewski,  but  at  this  time  he  wrote  to  Josephine 
in  a  style  that  reminds  one  of  those  letters  from 
Italy,  many  years  before,  when  he  was  in  the  first 
throes  of  his  passion.  Perhaps  she  was  vicariously 
receiving  a  love  that  another  was  usurping  ?  It  did 
not  deceive  her  ;  but  it  was  accepted  as  a  harbinger 
of  a  better  understanding.  ...  "I  have  received 
thy  letter.  I  do  not  know  who  are  the  objects  of 
your  suspicions.  I  love  only  my  little  Josephine, 
so  good,  pouting,  capricious,  who  can  quarrel  with 
such  grace,  even  as  she  does  everything ;  because 
she  is  always  amiable,  except  when  she  is  jealous  : 
then  she  becomes  a  little  devil." 

But  these  imaginary  evils,  conjured  up  by  the  jeal- 
ousy of  Josephine,  were  to  give  place  to  real  grief, 
and  were  swallowed  up  in  the  tide  of  sorrow  that 
swelled  the  heart  of  the  Empress-mother,  in  the 
month  of  May.  For  this  month,  the  tidings  came 
that  the  Prince-royal  of  Holland,  the  young  Napo- 
leon, son  of  Hortense  and  Louis  Bonaparte,  had  died 
of  croup. 

This  promising  child,  aged  but  five  years,  the 
eldest  son  of  the  King  and  Queen  of  Holland,  was 
looked  upon  by  Napoleon  as  the  future  heir  to  the 
throne  of  France,  in  default  of  children  by  Joseph- 


340  JOSEPHINE. 

ine  ;  and  his  unexpected  demise  was  the  severest 
blow  that  could  have  been  given  to  her  hopes  of  con- 
tinuance in  power  as  the  consort  of  Napoleon.  He 
had  received  the  name  of  his  august  uncle,  was  his 
pet  and  the  object  of  his  thoughts,  and  was  greatly 
beloved  by  both  the  Emperor  and  the  Empress. 

Immediately  upon  receipt  of  the  distressing  news, 
Josephine  felt  a  strong  inclination  to  be  near  her 
daughter  and  at  once  set  out  to  seek  her.  On  the 
way,  however,  she  reflected  that  the  Emperor  would 
not  sanction  her  leaving  France,  during  his  absence, 
and  so  she  halted  within  the  frontier,  and  addressed 
a  touching  letter  to  her  daughter,  imploring  her 
presence.  ..."  I  have  just  arrived  at  the  chateau 
of  Lecken,  near  Brussels,  my  dear  daughter,  and 
here  I  await  you.  Come  at  once  to  restore  me  to 
life  ;  thy  presence  is  necessary  to  my  existence,  and 
thou  shouldst  also  wish  to  see  thy  mother  and 
mingle  thy  tears  with  hers.  I  would  continue  fur- 
ther, but  fear  the  Emperor  would  not  approve  my 
leaving  the  territory  of  France  during  his  absence. 
But  having  come  thus  far  I  will  await  thee  here. 
Adieu,  my  dear  daughter  ;  I  am  overcome  with 
fatigue,  but  above  all  with  grief." 

It  was  several  days  before  the  Queen  of  Holland 
could  accede  to  her  mother's  request  and  join  her, 
and  meanwhile  Bonaparte  had  received  the  sad  in- 
telligence that  deprived  him  of  hope  for  an  heir  in 
the  line  of  descent  through  Hortense  and  his  brother 
Louis. 

It  was  a  severe  blow  to  his  plans  for  the  Napo- 


JOSEPHINE.  341 

leonic  succession  ;  but  he  rallied  from  this,  as  he 
recovered  from  every  severe  misfortune  that  over- 
took him  ;  he  wrote  to  Josephine  no  less  than  five 
consolatory  letters,  advising  her  to  forget  her  private 
griefs  in  the  exigencies  of  the  occasion.  .  .  . 

.  .  .  "  I  can  understand  thy  grief  at  the  death  of 
the  poor  Napoleon  ;  I  wish  I  could  be  near  to  thee 
to  assuage  thy  sorrow.  Thou  hast  had  the  good 
fortune  to  have  been  exempt  from  the  loss  of  thy 
children  ;  but  it  is  a  condition  attached  to  our  mis- 
erable existence.  ...  I  hope  to  learn  that  thou  hast 
been  rational  and  art  well.  Wouldst  thou  willingly 
add  to  my  distress  ?  " 

Hortense  arrived  at  the  chateau  on  the  16th  of 
May,  where  she  found  the  consolation  that  only  a 
mother  can  give.  Her  grief  had  petrified  her,  she 
was  suffering  in  that  stony  silence  that  forebodes 
the  worst  ;  but  upon  being  received  within  her 
mother's  arms,  and  hearing  the  expressions  of  ten- 
derness with  which  she  was  received,  she  burst  into 
tears  and  her  surcharged  heart  found  relief.  She 
threw  herself  sobbing  upon  her  mother's  breast, 
and  the  crisis  was  passed  which,  the  physician  had 
declared,  might  have  terminated  her  existence. 

The  Empress  took  her  sorrowing  daughter  to 
Paris,  where  she  strove  to  divert  her  from  her  grief. 
But  she  fell  into  a  stupor  of  melancholy  from  which 
it  was  impossible  to  rescue  her.  At  this  stage,  the 
Emperor  wrote  her  most  affectionately  to  rally  from 
her  sorrow  and  remember  that  she  still  owed  some- 
thing to  her  surviving  children  and  to  her  family. 


342  JOSEPHINE. 

"MY  DAUGHTER,"  wrote  Napoleon,  from  Dantzic, 
on  the  second  of  June,  "  you  have  not  written  me  a 
single  word,  in  your  great  sorrow.  .  .  .  What  they 
tell  me,  that  you  love  nobody,  that  you  are  indiffer- 
ent to  all,  I  am  constrained  to  believe  from  your 
silence. 

"  This  is  not  well,  Hortense,  this  is  not  what 
you  promised.  Your  son  is  with  you  still.  Your 
mother  and  myself  :  are  we  nothing  to  you  ?  Adieu, 
my  daughter.  Try  to  be  cheerful  ;  it  is  necessary 
to  be  resigned.  .  .  .  My  wife  is  very  much  distressed 
at  your  condition  ;  do  not  add  to  her  grief.  Your 
affectionate  father, 

"  NAPOLEON." 

In  the  death  of  the  young  Napoleon  a  terrible 
blow  had  fallen  upon  them  all ;  the  last  hope  of  the 
Napoleonic  succession  seemed  to  have  perished  with 
him.* 

*  "The  situation  of  the  Bonaparte  family  did  not  favor  the  establish- 
ment of  the  principle  of  hereditary  succession.  Napoleon  was  mar- 
ried to  a  woman  who  could  have  no  children  ;  his  eldest  brother, 
Joseph,  had  no  sons ;  his  brothers,  Lucien  and  Jerome,  had  contract- 
ed marriages  which  were  in  his  eyes  misalliances  which  could  not  be 
pardoned.  Louis  only  was  left'  to  perpetuate  the  Imperial  race,  and 
he  through  insane  jealotfsy  refused  connivance.  His  son,  Napoleon 
Charles,  born  1802,  Oct.  10th,  was  looked  upon  as  the  likely  successor 
until  his  death  put  an  end  to  all  hopes,  5th  May,  1807.  An  impor- 
tant effect  upon  the  fortunes  of  Josephine.  Jerome  was  not  quite 
twenty  when  he  married  Miss  Patterson.  The  law  of  20th  Sept., 
1792,  declared  null  and  void  a  marriage  contracted  by  a  person  less 
than  twenty  years  old,  without  the  consent  of  both  parents.  It  was 
in  Feb.,  1805,  that  Madame  Letitia  placed  in  the  hands  of  a  notary  a 
protest  against  her  son's  marriage." 


JOSEPHINE.  343 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

PORTENTS    OF  DISASTER. 

No  one  was  more  keenly  conscious  of  her  loss  of 
prestige  than  Josephine  herself.  Having  lost,  by 
the  death  of  her  grandson,  the  only  prop  that  sup- 
ported her  feeble  claim  to  the  throne,  and  unable  to 
furnish  Napoleon  the  heir  he  so  ardently  desired, 
she  now  felt  that  the  question  of  divorce  was  merely 
a  matter  of  time. 

While  in  this  state  of  anxiety  tidings  arrived  of 
the  victory  of  Friedland,  announced  to  Josephine  by 
a  letter  from  her  husband  :  .  .  . 

"  MY  FRIEND, — I  can  write  thee  but  a  word, 
because  I  am  so  fatigued.  .  .  .  My  children  have 
worthily  celebrated  the  anniversary  of  Marengo. 
The  battle  of  Friedland  will  also  be  celebrated,  and 
redound  to  the  glory  of  my  people.  The  entire 
Russian  army  has  been  routed  :  80  pieces  of  cannon 
taken ;  30,000  men  captured  or  killed  ;  25  generals 
filled,  wounded  or  taken  ;  the  Russian  guard  de- 
stroyed :  This  is  a  worthy  sister  of  Marengo,  of 
Austerlitz,  of  Jena.  The  bulletin  will  give  thee 
the  rest.  .  .  .  Adieu,  my  friend,  I  go  to  mount  my 
horse. 

"NAPOLEON." 


344  JOSEPHINE. 

Hortense  had  been  ordered  by  her  physicians  to 
the  Pyrenees,  for  the  benefit  of  the  waters  there, 
and  thither  Josephine  despatched  an  account  of  the 
meeting  of  the  two  Emperors,  of  France  and  Eussia, 
on  the  raft  in  the  Meman. 

"I  am  receiving  frequently,  my  dear  Hortense, 
news  from  the  Emperor.  He  speaks  often  of  the 
Emperor  Alexander,  with  whom  he  is  well  pleased. 
He  has  sent  to  me  two  gentlemen  who  witnessed 
the  late  events,  and  they  tell  me  that  the  first  inter- 
view was  a  magnificent  spectacle.  The  Emperor 
was  the  first  to  arrive  at  the  pavilion  constructed 
in  the  middle  of  the  river  ;  the  two  armies  were 
upon  the  right  and  the  left  bank,  respectively.  .  .  . 
They  say  that  at  the  moment  the  two  Emperors 
embraced  the  air  was  rent  with  the  acclamations  of 
both  armies.  That  which  interests  me  most  is  that 
I  shall  soon  see  the  Emperor.  .  .  .  Keep  me  in  thy 
thoughts,  and  believe,  my  dear  daughter,  in  the 
continued  solicitude  of  thy  mother." 

At  the  treaty  of  Tilsit,  Napoleon  may  be  said  to 
have  been  at  the  apogee  of  his  glory  and  power. 
Notwithstanding  the  great  events  in  which  he  was 
engaged,  which  indeed  he  was  shaping,  Napoleon 
did  not  neglect  to  write  to  Josephine  frequently. 
On  the  same  day  the  treaty  was  signed,  in  fact,  he 
despatched  a  tender  epistle  to  his  wife.  .  .  . 

"  July  7th,  1807,—  My  friend ;  the  Queen  of  Prus- 
sia dined  with  me  yesterday.  .  .  .  She  is  very  ami- 
able. .  .  .  When  you  shall  have  read  this  letter  the 


JOSEPHINE.  345. 

peace  with  Prussia  and  Russia  will  have  been  al- 
ready concluded,  and  Jerome  recognized  as  King  of 
Westphalia,  with  3,000,000  subjects.  This  news  for 
thee  alone.  .  .  .  Adieu,  my  friend,  I  love  thee,  and 
wish  to  know  that  thou  art  happy. " 

Three  weeks  later  Bonaparte  was  in  Paris,  wel- 
comed by  the  transports  of  his  loving  people.  One 
may  imagine  the  joy  of  the  Empress,  after  this  long 
and  sorrowful  separation  of  ten  months. 

Her  doubts  were  set  at  rest,  even  though  her 
husband  was  still  filled  with  thoughts  of  his  high 
destiny.  Destiny,  a  word  he  had  written  more  than 
once. 

But  there  was  no  change  in  his  affections  ;  he 
still  regarded  her  with  tenderness,  still  surrounded 
her  with  every  attention  ;  her  jealous  sentiments 
were  lulled  to  rest,  she  lapsed  into  a  feeling  of 
security. 

After  his  return  from  Tilsit  the  Emperor  devoted 
all  his  time  to  the  internal  affairs  of  France,  and 
especially  to  the  reorganization  of  his  court. 

Since  the  fall  of  the  monarchy,  some  five  or  six 
different  governments  had  succeeded  ;  but  neither 
the  horrors  of  the  Revolution  nor  the  rapid  march 
of  events  during  the  Consulate  and  Directory,  had 
effaced  from  the  memory  of  the  people  all  recollec- 
tion of  the  ancient  splendors  and  prestige  of  the 
royal  court.  All  the  vast  energies  of  the  Emperor 
were  now  directed  to  a  revival  of  those  courtly 
customs  and  usages,  by  which  monarchical  institu- 


346  JOSEPHINE. 

tions  are  preserved  and  entrenched  in  the  regard  of 
the  people. 

The  throne  once  firmly  established,  a  natural  con- 
sequence of  this  restoration  was  the  return  to  the 
traditional  splendor  and  brilliant  appanage  con- 
sidered necessary  to  a  maintenance  of  the  supreme 
power.  Although  the  newly-risen  court  of  Napo- 
leon was  ridiculed,  and  even  held  up  to  detesta- 
tion by  the  ancienne  noblesse,  yet  there  were  few 
who  did  not  hasten  to  be  included  in  its  reorganiza- 
tion. All-powerful  by  the  greatness  of  his  char- 
acter, feared  on  account  of  his  numerous  victories, 
and  with  a  profound  understanding  of  the  springs 
of  human  motives,  Napoleon  did  not  doubt  that  his 
court  would  become  firmly  established  in  the  re- 
spect of  his  people  and  honored  by  the  presence  of 
the  foreign  ambassadors. 

Since  the  establishment  of  the  Consulate,  in  fact, 
he  had  not  ceased  to  gather  about  him  whatever 
would  add  to  the  brilliancy  and  effect  of  his  sur- 
roundings. 

We  have  seen  the  gradual  accretions  to  his  little 
court,  from  the  modest  beginnings  at  the  Luxem- 
bourg, through  the  quasi-imperial  receptions  at  the 
Tuileries  and  Saint-Cloud,  and  during  the  three 
years  just  concluded.  The  first  was  the  formative 
period,  and  the  second  and  accomplished  achievement 
terminated  at  the  end  of  1807,  or  at  the  culmination 
of  his  career  of  glory. 

We  may,  rather,  say  that  the  first  full  period  con- 
tinued five  years,  and  may  be  called  the  reign  of 


JOSEPHINE.  347 

Josephine ;  the  following,  or  the  reign  of  Maria 
Louisa,  from  the  year  1810  until  his  fall. 

The  period  of  ascendency  was  during  the  reign 
of  Josephine.  To  her  was  given  the  glorious  task 
of  restoring  to  France  the  usages  and  traditional 
manners  of  royalty.  To  her  tact,  her  ability,  her 
feminine  power  of  pleasing  and  reconciling  the 
many  incongruous  elements  of  the  new  court,  was 
due  the  successful  re-establishment  of  the  imperial 
regime. 

It  required  all  the  genius  of  Napoleon  and  all  the 
wonderful  tact  and  address  of  his  accomplished 
consort,  to  unite  the  old  nobility  with  the  parvenu 
aristocracy  created  by  Bonaparte. 

His  most  cherished  idea  was  the  fusion  of  these 
two  elements  so  opposite  in  character ;  the  one 
founded  upon  claim  of  ancient  ancestry,  the  other 
based  upon  glorious  achievements.  That  it  was 
accomplished,  should  redound  to  the  credit  of  the 
great  man  who  did  it,  of  the  one  who  thus  laid  the 
foundation  for  the  reconciliation  of  the  opposite 
classes  in  dismembered  France. 

Through  the  medium  of  his  court,  Napoleon 
bridged  the  chasm  which  had  so  long  separated  the 
new  France  from  the  old  ;  hands  that  had  been 
raised  against  each  other  in  battle,  were  now  clasped 
in  amity.  The  result  was  soon  seen  in  the  amelio- 
ration of  manners,  in  the  extinguishment  of  hates 
and  the  fusion  of  parties. 

There  was  no  longer  any  pretext  for  the  return 
of  the  Bourbons  ;  for  the  flower  of  their  aristocracy 


348  JOSEPHINE. 

might  be  found  attached  to  the  Court  of  Napoleon, 
the  glitter  and  pomp  of  which  were  sufficient  to 
satisfy  the  most  exacting  Royalist. 

Independently  of  the  great  offices  filled  by  Fesch, 
Berthier,  Duroc,  Talleyrand,  Caulaincourt  and  Segur, 
there  were  appointed  twenty  court  chamberlains,  com- 
prising some  of  the  greatest  names  in  the  Empire  ; 
after  these  came  the  prefects  of  the  palace,  three 
in  number  ;  an  almoner,  two  equerries,  and  pages 
to  the  number  of  forty. 

The  household  of  the  Empress  was  composed  of 
the  first  almoner,  a  lady  of  honor,  mistress  of  the 
robes,  and  numerous  ladies  of  the  palace  (dames  du 
palais},  wives  of  Napoleon's  marshals,  and  some  of 
the  old  nobility.  .  .  .  "Madame  Bonaparte,"  says 
Mme.  de  Remusat,  one  of  these  same  ladies-in-wait- 
ing, "had  her  head  turned  for  a  time  by  finding  real 
grandes  dames  among  her  ladies-in-waiting." 

An  establishment  was  also  created  for  the  mother 
of  Bonaparte,  the  "  Imperatrice-Mere,"  who  was 
likewise  surrounded  by  aristocratic  ladies,  both  of 
the  old  regime  and  modern  creation. 

Regarding  the  jealousies  and  the  heart-burnings 
of  these  grandes  dames  subjected  to  attendance 
upon  the  "parvenu  emperor"  and  his  wife,  sisters, 
and  mother,  we  shall  be  silent ;  several  of  them 
have  given  their  plaints  to  the  world  :  as  Mme.  de 
Remusat  and  the  Duchess  d'Abrantes,  in  whose  in- 
teresting na'rratives  much  of  value  may  be  dis- 
covered. 

After  two  months'  absence  from  her  daughter, 


JOSEPHINE.  349 

Josephine  visited  her  at  her  retreat,  finding  her 
composed  and  in  good  health.  The  husband  of 
Hortense  left  her  with  the  Empress  and  returned  to 
Holland  ;  but  the  Queen  did  not  dare  accompany 
him,  fearing  the  effect  of  the  climate,  which  she 
believed  had  caused  the  death  of  her  eldest  son. 

At  the  beginning  of  September,  1807,  the  court 
was  transported  to  Fontainebleau,  where  numerous 
fetes  were  given  and  diplomatic  receptions  held  on  a 
grand  scale.  ...  One  of  the  fetes  was  given  in  honor 
of  the  marriage  of  the  new  king  of  Westphalia, 
Jerome  Bonaparte,  with  the  Princess  Catherine  of 
Wurtemburg.  This  marriage,  which,  like  that  of 
the  Prince  Eugene  with  the  Princess  of  Bavaria,  was 
one  of  policy,  promoted  by  the  ambition  of  Napoleon, 
was  in  the  end  a  happy  one  ;  and  neither  had  occa- 
sion to  regret  the  event. 

It  was  while  at  Fontainebleau  that  Josephine  re- 
ceived the  first  intimation  that  her  divorce  was  any- 
thing more  than  a  carefully- guarded,  secret  thought 
of  the  Emperor,  in  the  proposition  from  the  wily 
Fouche,  minister  of  police,  that  she  should  sacrifice 
herself  to  the  glory  of  France  and  the  best  interests 
of  Bonaparte's  family.  She  was  amazed,  and  at 
first  thought  this  man  but  an  agent  of  Napoleon's, 
sent  to  prepare  her  for  the  inevitable  change. 

It  was  true,  as  he  urged,  that  she  had  given  her 
husband  no  heir  to  the  throne  ;  that  there  was  no 
prospect  favorable  to  such  an  event ;  that  Napoleon's 
heart  was  filled  with  the  desire  to  transmit  his 
throne  and  his  glory  to  a  successor  of  his  own 


350  JOSEPHINE. 

blood  ;  and  that  his  highest  ambition  would  only  be 
gratified  by  the  consummation  of  his  desires  in  this 
regard. 

It  was  soon  shown  that  the  officious  minister  had 
acted  without  the  sanction,  even  without  the  knowl- 
edge, of  his  chief  ;  that  he  had  wished  to  sound  the 
public  opinion  upon  the  subject  of  divorce  and  to 
prepare  France  for  such  an  event ;  and  that  he  had 
promulgated  the  idea  of  an  alliance  of  Napoleon 
with  the  Grand-duchess,  Catherine  of  Eussia.  He 
well  knew  the  repugnance  of  the  Emperor  to  the 
idea  of  divorce,  and  his  love  for  one  who  had  ever 
been  devoted  to  his  best  interests.  But  he  conceived 
the  project  of  forcing  his  hand,  and  libeled  both 
parties  to  this  projected  separation,  by  speaking  of 
it  as  an  eventuality  likely  to  occur. 

The  Empress,  prostrated  by  this  covert  attack, 
had  replied  that  there  was  no  sacrifice  she  would 
not  make  for  her  husband  or  for  the  good  of  France, 
but  gave  way  to  her  grief  ;  and  one  day,  finding  her 
in  tears,  Napoleon  demanded  the  cause. 

She  told  him  ;  he  was  furious,  and  at  once  com- 
manded the  culpable  Fouche  to  come  before  him, 
threatened  to  deprive  him  of  his  position,  and  his 
resentment  was  only  calmed  by  the  interposition  of 
his  brothers  and  Murat. 

Fouche  had  treated  his  Empress  with  character- 
estic  ingratitude  ;  but  the  result  of  his  machinations 
was  only  to  cement  more  firmly  the  friendship  be- 
tween the  royal  pair  ;  not  then,  at  least,  was  the  act 
of  separation  to  be  announced. 


JOSEPHINE.  351 

Her  happiness  now  reassured,  Josephine  was 
about  to  send  to  her  aged  mother  a  last  and  most 
pressing  invitation  to  join  her,  when  she  received 
the  afflicting  intelligence  of  her  demise.  * 

Thus  did  joy  and  sadness  alternate  in  her  life ; 
even  the  briefest  interval  of  happiness  soon  gave 
place  to  grief. 

The  etiquette  of  the  Court  forbade  her  to  put  on 
the  habiliments  of  mourning,  but  she  wept  in  secret 
for  this  devoted  mother,  the  last  link  that  united 
place  her  to  the  place  of  her  birth. 

By  the  orders  of  Bonaparte,  a  letter  was  forwarded 
to  the  high  officials  of  Martinique,  conveying  his 
thanks  for  their  attentions  to  Madame  de  La-Pagerie 
in  her  last  moments  and  for  their  respect  to  her 
memory.  He  also  ordered  that  a  piece  of  marble 
should  be  suitably  engraved  and  placed  above  or 
near  her  tomb,  to  indicate  the  last  resting-place  of 
the  mother  of  the  Empress  Josephine  and  mother- 
in-law  of  Bonaparte,  Emperor  of  France. 

*  Josephine's  last  letter  to  her  mother. 

"  PARIS  17th  February,  1807. 
"  MY  DEAB  MAMMA. 

"  I  embrace  the  opportunity  afforded  by  the  departure  of  M. 
Duquesne  to  send  you  a  letter  and  to  greet  you.  My  health  is  good. 
I  returned  hither  from  Mayence  the  first  of  the  month.  The  Em- 
peror is  well.  I  received  a  letter  from  him,  dated  the  1st  February, 
when  he  was  some  forty  leagues  the  other  side  Varsovia,  the  Kus- 
sians  retreating  before  him. 

"  I  had  my  daughter  with  me  during  my  stay  at  Mayence  ;  but  she 
returned  to  the  Hague,  to  be  with  the  King. 

"  I  expect  that  soon  Eugene  will  present  me  with  a  little  grandson, 
as  the  Princess  Augusta  is  about  to  be  confined,  and  I  am  in  daily 


352  JOSEPHINE. 

At  the  end  of  November  Bonaparte  departed  for 
Italy,  refusing  the  entreaties  of  Josephine  to  be  al- 
lowed to  accompany  him  thither ;  but  making  amends 
for  his  refusal  by  bestowing  upon  her  son,  the  Vice- 
roy, the  title  of  successor  to  the  crown  of  Italy. 

This  was  a  tardy  sanction  of  his  act  of  nearly 
two  years  before,  upon  the  occasion  of  Eugene's 
marriage  ;  but  none  the  less  gratifying  to  the  young 
Prince  and  his  mother. 

Napoleon  returned  to  Paris  in  January,  1808,  and 
commenced  at  the  Tuileries  those  fetes,  balls,  and  re- 
ceptions that  gave  such  an  impulse  to  trade  and  air 
of  gayety  to  the  capital.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
month  another  marriage  was  celebrated  :  that  of 
the  young  and  beautiful  niece  of  the  Empress,  Mile, 
de  Tascher,  with  one  of  the  princes  of  the  Rhine 
Confederation. 

Scarcely  had  the  attendant  fetes  been  consum- 
mated, when  the  trouble  began  over  the  succession 
to  the  Spanish  throne,  and  Bonaparte  hastened  with 

expectation  of  news  of  the  event.  ...  I  will  attend  to  the  matter  of 
which  you  wrote  me  in  your  last  letters.  ...  I  am  only  too  glad  to  be 
useful  to  our  colony  and  to  persons  in  whom  you  are  interested. 
Adieu,  my  dear  mamma  ;  be  very  careful  of  your  health,  which  I 
hope  still  continues  good.  This  hope  only  compensates  me  for  not 
seeing  you.  Think  of  me  sometimes,  and  be  assured  that  no  one 
loves  you  more  tenderly  than  your  daughter.  .  .  . 

"JOSEPHINE." 

This  letter  could  not  have  reached  its  intended  recipient  very  long 
in  advance  of  her  demise,  which  occurred  in  June,  the  same  year.  It 
will  be  seen  that  to  the  last  Josephine  kept  her  mother  in  view,  was 
solicitous  as  to  her  welfare,  and  desirous  that  she  should  come  to  her 
in  France. 


JOSEPHINE.  353 

his  wife  to  the  Spanish  frontier.  On  this  journey 
Josephine  was  of  incalculable  assistance  to  Napoleon, 
by  her  unwearied  attendance  at  fetes  and  receptions, 
her  tact  and  adroitness,  her  pleasing  manners. 
There  was  no  indication  of  the  intentions  of  Bona- 
parte in  this  matter  of  divorce,  though  it  is  possible 
he  had  already  decided  upon  its  necessity.  At 
Bordeaux,  Josephine  received  intelligence  of  the 
birth  of  a  third  son  to  Hortense  and  Louis,  and  on 
the  23d  April  wrote  her  an  affectionate  letter  of  con- 
gratulation. Two  days  after  another,  in  which  she 
assures  her  daughter  of  Napoleon's  satisfaction  that 
she  has  become  the  mother  of  another  boy,  instead 
of  a  daughter. 

Both  the  Empress  and  the  Emperor  entertained, 
without  doubt,  the  liveliest  hopes  that  this  son 
might  eventually  become  the  hope  of  the  empire. 
The  obstinacy  of  Louis,  in  refusing  to  his  brother 
any  voice  in  his  future,  was  the  death  of  their  ex- 
pectations. 

They  returned  to  Paris  in  August,  both  with  sad- 
dened spirits ;  for  Bonaparte  had  received  intelli- 
gence of  the  defeat  of  his  troops  in  Spain  ;  and 
Josephine  already  felt  gnawing  at  her  heart  that 
presentiment  of  disaster  that  attended  all  the  oper- 
ations of  Bonaparte  in  the  Spanish  peninsula. 

The  Emperor  believed  his  presence  necessary  to 
the  safety  of  his  army  in  Spain,  to  avenge  this  first 
check  to  his  military  fortune  ;  but  he  first  attended 
the  conference  at  Erfurth,  where  he  met  the 
Emperor  Alexander  and  the  German  sovereigns. 
23 


354  JOSEPHINE. 

lie  wrote  to  Josephine  that  he  was  very  much  in 
love  with  Alexander,  and  if  he  were  a  woman  he 
would  surely  seek  his  hand  in  marriage.  This 
pleasantry  was  far  from  agreeable  to  Josephine, 
because  she  had  good  reason  to  believe  that  the 
Eussian  Emperor  was  desirous  to  enter  into  more 
intimate  relations  with  Bonaparte,  through  a  matri- 
monial alliance.  In  fact,  rumor  had  it  that  he  had 
offered  Napoleon  the  hand  of  his  sister,  the  Princess 
Anne,  and  that  the  Emperor  had  not  returned  a 
positive  answer. 

On  his  return  from  Erfurth  the  Emperor  passed 
a  few  days  in  Paris,  and  then  hastened  towards 
Spain,  where  his  presence  was  most  urgently 
needed.  Josephine  was  filled  with  apprehension  at 
the  outcome  of  the  Spanish  wars,  and  allowed  the 
Emperor  to  leave  her  only  after  her  most  earnest 
protest  against  its  continuance.  The  war  in  Spain, 
as  history  has  told  us,  was  the  beginning  of  Bona- 
parte's downward  career.  But  for  Spain,  there 
would  not  have  ensued  the  Austrian  and  Kussian 
complications  ;  in  placing  his  brother  upon  the  throne 
of  Spain  and  seeking  to  maintain  him  there  by  the 
power  of  bayonets,  Bonaparte  divided  his  army,  dis- 
tracted his  people,  brought  down  upon  himself  the 
vengeance  of  England,  of  Portugal,  and  of  Spain. 

Napoleon's  letters  to  his  wife  are  at  first  filled 
with  the  news  of  continued  successes  ;  one  of  them 
will  suffice,  to  show  the  manner  of  his  correspond- 
ence, at  the  opening  of  the  year  in  which  she  was 
driven  from  the  throne  of  France. 


JOSEPHINE.  355 

"3d  January,  1809, — I  have  received,  my  friend, 
thy  letters  of  the  18th  and  21st  December.  I  am 
pursuing  the  English,  sword  in  hand.  The  weather 
is  cold  and  rigorous,  but  everything  is  going  well. 
Adieu,  my  friend.  Always  thine.  A  very  happy 
new  year  to  my  Josephine." 

"  9th  January, — Moustache  brings  me  a  letter 
from  thee  of  the  31st.  I  see,  my  friend,  that  thou  art 
in  a  most  melancholy  state.  Do  not  fear,  Austria 
will  not  declare  war  against  me.  If  she  does,  I  have 
150,000  men  in  Germany  and  as  many  more  on  the 
Rhine,  and  400,000  Germans  at  call.  Russia  will 
not  turn  against  me.  The  Parisians  are  crazy, 
credulous.  Everything  is  going  on  well.  I  shall 
return  to  Paris  just  as  soon  as  I  think  it  neces- 
sary. ...  I  charge  you  to  be  careful  what  you 
reveal.  .  .  .  But  adieu,  my  friend.  My  health  is 
good,  and  I  am  ever  thine."  .  .  . 

Josephine's  fears  were  soon  realized  and  Bona- 
parte had  cause  to  thank  her  for  her  extraordinary 
prevision.  For  Austria,  though  repeatedly  beaten, 
yet  never  conquered,  profiting  by  the  absence  of 
Bonaparte  in  Spain,  took  occasion  to  declare  war 
against  her  powerful  enemy.  The  Emperor's  decis- 
ion was  not  more  rapid  than  his  movements,  and, 
seeing  at  once  his  mistake,  he  abandoned  his  Spanish 
operations  and  returned  to  Paris  with  all  speed. 

The  23d  of  January,  he  was  again  in  the  Tuile- 
ries  ;  two  months  sufficed  him  to  put  in  operation 
all  the  vast  enginery  of  war  at  his  command. 
Austria  soon  had  cause  to  repent  her  hasty  decision, 


356  JOSEPHINE. 

and  to  lament  her  mistake.  On  the  13th  of  April 
Bonaparte  left  Paris,  taking  the  Empress  with  him 
as  far  as  Strasburg,  where  she  had  sojourned  during 
the  Eussian  campaign,  four  years  previously. 

Four  days  later  Bonaparte  had  established  his 
headquarters,  and  two  days  after  commenced  that 
short  campaign  which  resulted  in  making  him  mas- 
ter, for  the  second  time,  of  the  capital  of  Austria. 

Some  twenty-five  letters,  written  by  Napoleon  to 
his  wife,  during  this  campaign,  are  in  existence ; 
but  it  is  only  necessary  to  quote  from  a  few  of  them, 
to  show  their  character.  They  become  shorter  and 
more  concise,  the  farther  negotiations  proceed  with 
the  Court  of  Austria,  and  have  their  value  as  indica- 
tions of  the  writer's  feelings  at  the  time. 

In  his  letter  of  the  6th  of  May,  alluding  to  the 
report  that  he  had  been  wounded  in  the  heel,  he 
writes  :  .  .  .  "  My  friend,  I  have  received  thy  letter. 
The  ball  touched  me  but  did  not  wound,  only  just 
grazing  the  tendon  Achilles.  My  health  is  good  ; 
thou  art  wrong  to  disquiet  thyself.  My  affairs  are 
in  good  shape.  Ever  thine." 

It  is  well  known  that  Bonaparte  was  several  times 
wounded  (as  shown  by  the  scars  discovered  on  his 
body  after  his  death,  at  St.  Helena),  but  that  he 
bravely  concealed  his  wounds,  fearing  the  effect 
they  would  have  upon  his  soldiers,  who  believed  him 
invulnerable. 

The  capture  of  Vienna  he  announced  in  a  few 
lines,  as  though  it  were  a  foregone  conclusion  and 
a  matter  of  course.  But  the  arrival  of  Prince 


JOSEPHINE.  357 

Eugene,  with  his  victorious  army,  which  he  knew 
would  be  welcome  to  the  mother- heart  of  Josephine, 
he  described  more  at  length,  and  bestowed  praise 
upon  his  adopted  son  that  he  was  aware  would  be 
gratefully  received.  This  letter  he  sent  by  special 
courier,  and  enclosed  a  proclamation  which  he 
requested  her  to  have  translated  into  French  and 
German,  announcing  his  victories,  and  have  printed 
for  general  distribution. 

On  the  loss  of  his  gallant  marshal,  the  intrepid 
Lannes,  he  wrote  briefly  :  .  .  .  "  The  death  of  the 
Duke  of  Montebello,  who  was  killed  this  morning, 
distresses  me  deeply.  If  thou  canst  console  his  poor 
wife,  please  do  so.  Truly  thine." 

Of  the  victory  which  Eugene,  profiting  by  the 
teachings  of  his  adopted  father  and  beloved  mentor, 
had  gained  over  the  second  Austrian  army,  Napo- 
leon wrote  to  Josephine  :  .  .  . 

"  I  have  sent  thee  a  courier  to  announce  that,  on 
the  14th,  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Marengo, 
Eugene  won  a  great  victory  over  the  Archduke 
John,  taking  3,000  prisoners,  several  cannon,  and 
four  flags." 

Three  weeks  later  the  campaign  was  ended  by  the 
decisive  battle  of  Wagram,  and  which  Bonaparte 
announced  to  his  wife  in  the  same  laconic  manner 
as  at  Austerlitz,  Jena,  and  Friedland  :  .  .  . 

"  7th  July,  five  o'clock  in  the  morning, — I  have 
sent  you  a  courier  with  the  good  news  of 
the  victories  of  Ebersdorf  and  Wagram,  which 
latter  I  gained  yesterday.  The  enemy's  army  is  in 


358  JOSEPHINE. 

disorderly  flight.  Eugene  is  well.  .  .  .  My  losses 
are  considerable,  but  the  victory  is  decisive  and  com- 
plete. We  have  taken  more  than  one  hundred  can- 
non, twelve  flags,  and  many  prisoners.  .  .  .  Adieu, 
my  friend  ;  I  embrace  thee.  Many  loving  messages 
for  Hortense." 

On  the  13th  July,  an  armistice  was  concluded,  and 
negotiations  entered  upon  for  a  peace  between  the 
two  empires  that  should  be  more  permanent  than 
any  that  had  preceded. 

While  the  negotiations  for  peace  were  proceed- 
ing, and  which  consumed  several  months,  Napoleon 
resided  at  Vienna  and  at  Schonbrunn,  and  Jose- 
phine, having  returned  from  Strasburg,  retired  to 
Malmaison,  where  she  gave  herself  up  to  the  same 
gloomy  forebodings  that  had  agitated  her  four 
years  before. 

It  was  not  solely  an  amour  that  gave  rise  to  sad 
reflections  now,  but  a  concatenation  of  events  that 
all  pointed  to  but  one  solution  of  the  problem  of 
succession  to  the  throne  in  case  of  accident  to  its 
present  possessor. 

The  recent  narrow  escape  from  death  of  her  royal 
spouse ;  a  more  recent  attempt  at  assassination  ;  the 
necessity  for  some  apparent  heir  to  the  throne  being 
in  evidence  : — even  the  people  were  seriously  debat- 
ing the  probable  consequences,  should  Napoleon  fall 
by  a  bullet  from  the  enemy  or  beneath  the  poignard 
of  the  assassin.  Wild  rumors  were  in  the  air,  and 
both  Bonaparte  and  Josephine  were  cognizant  of 
them  and  their  import. 


JOSEPHINE.  359 

Napoleon  coolly  discussed  the  probabilities  in  every 
event,  and  calculated  the  possible  advantages  result- 
ing from  alliance  with  one  of  the  royal  families.  If 
he  should  be  deprived  of  life,  at  this  time,  it  was 
certain  that  his  dynasty  would  perish  with  him  ;  not 
one  of  his  brothers  could  assume  and  maintain  the 
royal  state  ;  there  was  no  rallying-point  for  the  peo- 
ple of  France, — in  short,  no  direct  and  legitimate 
heir  to  the  throne. 

It  was  at  this  time,  while  negotiating  the  peace  of 
Schonbrunn,  that  the  idea  of  divorce  became  fixed 
and  Napoleon  decided  upon  a  matrimonial  alliance, 
either  with  the  royal  house  of  Austria,  or  Russia, 
both  of  which  had  been  practically  offered  him.  The 
treaty  of  peace  was  signed  on  the  14th  October  ;  on 
the  21st  the  Emperor  addressed  a  note  of  three  lines 
to  Josephine:  .  .  .  "My  friend, — I  leave  in  an 
hour.  I  shall  arrive  at  Fontainebleau  on  the  26th  or 
27th  ;  meet  me  there  with  the  ladies  of  the  Court." 

The  peace  was  signed,  divorce  was  decided  upon  ; 
Napoleon  returned  to  France,  with  the  plaudits  of 
his  people  ringing  in  his  ears  ;  but  with  the  deter- 
mination to  deprive  himself  of  the  music  of  a  voice 
sweeter  to  him  than  the  acclamations  of  the  multi- 
tude. 


360  JOSEPHINE. 

•          t 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

DIVORCE. 

EVENTS  did  not  march  more  rapidly  than  Napoleon 
himself.  He  so  hastened  his  journey,  that  he  arrived 
at  Fontainebleau  on  the  26th  of  October,  early  in 
the  morning,  before  Josephine  and  her  ladies  had 
even  departed  from  Saint  Cloud. 

A  messenger  was  despatched  to  apprise  her  of  his 
arrival,  and  she  hastened  to  meet  him  ;  but  his  anger 
was  such  that  at  first  he  avoided  her,  and  for  a  time 
was  cold  and  indifferent.  ' '  And  so  you  are  come, 
madame,"  he  curtly  said.  "It  is  time.  I  was 
about  setting  out  for  Saint  Cloud." 

Josephine  burst  into  tears,  when  Napoleon's  heart 
relented,  and  he  begged  her  to  forget  his  rudeness. 
They  were  friends  again,  but  between  them  was  a 
constraint  that  had  never  been  before. 

A  cloud  sat  upon  his  brow  ;  she  frequently  lapsed 
into  tears  ;  they  avoided  that  intimate  companion- 
ship which  had  hitherto  been  such  solace  and  recrea- 
tion. 

He  had  returned  triumphant  but  gloomy,  for  he 
had  come  to  the  unalterable  determination  to  sever 
the  tie  that  united  them,  even  though  well  aware 


JOSEPHINE.  361 

that  it  would  break  this  fond  heart  which  had  been 
devoted  to  him  during  the  past  thirteen  years. 

It  was  his  destiny — thus  he  reasoned — which  com- 
pelled this  separation  from  one  who  loved  him  as  a 
man,  and  not  as  sovereign  ;  who  had  shared  with 
him  the  glory  of  his  achievements,  who  had  been 
the  crowning  charm  of  his  life. 

It  was  not  new  to  Josephine  :  this  apparition  of 
divorce  ;  during  several  years  of  her  marriage  it  had 
shadowed  her  existence,  had  presented  itself  before 
her  in  every  variety  of  form. 

It  had  been  urged  upon  Bonaparte  by  his  family, 
whose  jealousy  of  Josephine  was  fntense  and  ill- 
coricealed,  their  antipathy  extending  even  to  her 
children. 

It  was  urged  by  them  on  the  return  from  Egypt, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Consulate  for  life,  preced- 
ing the  Coronation,  and  after  the  peace  of  Tilsit ; 
but  Napoleon  had  nobly  protected  his  wife.  t 

Since,  however,  the  death  of  the  Prince-royal  of 
Holland,  or  for  the  two  years  past,  he  had  enter- 
tained the  suggestion  that  previously  had  been 
indignantly  repelled. 

The  advances  of  Eussia  at  Erfurth  had  made  a 
vivid  impression  upon  his  amour-propre,  and  may 
have  given  him  the  assurance  that  no  alliance  was 
too  lofty  for  him  to  aspire  to. 

His  narrow  escape  from  death,  in  the  last  cam- 
paign, must  have  brought  vividly  before  him  the 
futility  of  all  his  plans,  the  unstability  of  his  care- 
fully-builded  throne,  if  he  should  die  without  a  legit- 


362  JOSEPHINE. 

imate  successor  ;  the  matrimonial  prospects,  which 
it  is  more  than  probable  were  suggested  at  the  sign- 
ing of  the  peace  of  Vienna  ;  and  the  certitude  that 
he  could  never  expect  an  heir  from  his  present  union, 
which  another  more  fortunate  might  give  him  ;  — all 
these  circumstances  united  to  impress  upon  him  the 
necessity  for  divorce,  as  due  to  his  high  destiny  and 
the  repose  of  France. 

But  the  Emperor  feared  to  excite  anew  the  grief 
and  fears  of  Josephine,  and  he  dreaded  to  meet  her 
reproaches  and  her  tears.  He  could  not  bear  to  see 
her  suffer,  he  was  pained  at  sight  of  her  tears  ;  this 
man,  before  whom  all  Europe  was  even  then  in  hum- 
ble obeisance  shrank  from  communicating  to  her 
the  decision  at  which  he  had  arrived.* 

*  It  was  wLile  Napoleon  was  at  Fontainebleau,  before  his  return 
to  Paris,  that  Josephine  for  the  first  time  heard  the  divorce  men- 
tioned, ;  the  idea  had  occurred  to  the  Emperor's  mind  while  he  was 
at  Schonbrunn.  .  .  .  Napoleon  often  reflected  on  the  best  mode  of 
making  this  communication  to  the  Empress  ;  still,  he  was  reluctant  to 
speak  to  her.  ...  He  was  apprehensive  of  the  consequences  of  her 
susceptibility  of  feeling  ;  his  heart  was  never  proof  against  the  shed- 
ding of  tears.  He  thought,  however,  that  a  favorable  opportunity  of- 
fered for  breaking  the  subject  previously  to  his  quitting  Fontaine- 
bleau. He  hinted  at  it  in  a  few  words  which  he  had  addressed  to  the 
Empress,  but  he  did  not  explain  himself  until  the  arrival  of  the  Vice- 
roy, whom  he  had  ordered  to  join  him.  .  .  .  He  was  the  first  person 
who  spoke  openly  to  his  mother  and  obtained  her  consent  for  that  bit- 
ter sacrifice.  He  acted  on  that  occasion  like  a  kind  son  and  a  man 
grateful  to  his  benefactor  and  devoted  to  his  service,  by  sparing  him 
the  necessity  of  unpleasant  explanations  towards  a  partner  whose  re- 
moval was  a  sacrifice  as  painful  to  him  as  it  was  affecting.  The  Em- 
peror, having  arranged  whatever  related  to  the  future  condition  of 
the  Empress,  upon  whom  he  made  a  liberal  settlement,  urged  the 


JOSEPHINE.  363 

But  this  suspense  could  not  long  endure.  One 
day,  the  last  of  November,  after  a  gloomy  repast, 
at  which  neither  spoke,  the  sword  so  long  suspended 
above  her  head  fell,  and  severed  the  tie  that  for  so 
many  years  had  held  these  two  together. 

Instinctively  apprehending  what  was  to  follow, 
Josephine  followed  her  husband  into  his  cabinet. 
His  look  was  stern,  and  her  heart  quailed  before  it. 
But  approaching  her,  he  said,  with  accents  of  ten- 
derness, "Josephine,  my  dear  Josephine,  you  know 
how  much  I  have  loved  you  ;  that  to  you,  to  you 
alone,  I  owe  the  little  happiness  I  have  experienced 
in  this  world.  But,  Josephine,  my  destiny  is  more 
powerful  than  my  will ;  my  dearest  affections  must 
yield  to  the  interests  of  France— 

"Say  no  more,"  faltered  the  victim  of  his  am- 
bition; "say  no  more;  I  have  expected  this;  I 


moment  of  the  dissolution  of  the  marriage,  no  doubt  because  he  felt 
grieved  at  the  condition  of  the  Empress  herself,  who  dined  every  day 
and  passed  her  evenings  in  the  presence  of  persons  who  were  witness- 
ing her  descent  from  the  throne.  There  existed  between  him  and  the 
Empress  Josephine  no  other  bond  than  a  civil  act,  according  to  the 
custom  which  prevailed  at  the  time  of  his  marriage.  Now,  the  law 
had  foreseen  the  dissolution  of  such  marriage  contracts.  A  particular 
day  having  therefore  been  fixed  upon,  the  Emperor  brought  together 
into  his  apartments  those  persons  whose  ministry  was  required  in 
this  case  :  .  .  .  The  Emperor  then  declared  in  a  loud  voice  his  in- 
tention of  annulling  the  marriage  he  had  contracted  with  Josephine, 
who  was  present  ;  the  Empress  also  made  the  same  declaration,  which 
was  interrupted  by  her  repeated  sobs.  The  Prince  Arch-Chancellor 
having  caused  the  article  of  the  law  to  be  read,  he  applied  it  to  the 
case  before  him,  and  declared  the  marriage  to  be  dissolved." — Mem. 
of  the  Due  de  Kovigo. 


364  JOSEPHINE. 

understand,  I  can  appreciate  your  motives, — but, 
the  stroke  is  not  the  less  mortal." 

She  fell  to  the  floor  insensible,  and  the  Emperor, 
alarmed,  called  the  chamberlain  of  the  palace,  and 
the  court  physician,  who  bore  the  Empress  to  her 
apartments.  Three  hours  she  lay  unconscious,  and 
during  that  time  no  anxiety  was  greater  than  Bona- 
aparte's,  who  doubtless  felt  as  keenly  as  she  the  fatal 
thrust  that  had  divided  their  hitherto  united  lives. 

Hortense  was  then  at  Fontainebleau,  and  gave 
to  her  mother  the  consolation  which  she  so  much 
needed  ;  one  loving  heart,  at  least,  was  hers  to  rest 
upon. 

Recovered  from  this  first  shock,  Josephine  was 
no  longer  the  gay  and  joyous  companion  of  the 
Emperor,  animating  by  her  presence  the  gloomiest 
of  his  melancholy  days.  She  was  subdued,  grief- 
stricken,  passing  whole  nights  in  tears  ;  yet,  in  the 
company  of  her  ladies  and  at  the  fetes  that  suc- 
ceeded in  honor  of  Napoleon's  victories,  she  conducted 
herself  with  dignity  and  apparent  cheerfulness. 

Hortense  was  with  her  when  the  blow  descended  ; 
Eugene  was  summoned  from  Italy  to  give  the  coup- 
de-grace. 

Both  Hortense  and  Eugene  hastened  to  assure 
their  stepfather  that  they  would  thenceforth  re- 
nounce all  claim  upon  his  bounty  ;  that  they  could 
not  leave  their  mother's  side ;  that  wherever  she 
should  be  sent,  thither  they  would  accompany  her. 
Napoleon,  who  loved  these  children  as  his  own,  and 
earnestly  desired  their  well-being,  dissuaded  them 


JOSEPHINE.  365 

from  any  step  that  should  lead  to  separation  from 
his  fortunes,  and  patiently  explained  to  them  his 
reasons,  the  imperative  necessity,  for  divorce. 

Josephine  also  added  her  supplications  to  her  hus- 
band's, and  her  children  acquiesced  in  her  desires. 

Once  more  Josephine  was  to  be  submitted  to  the 
torture  of  acquiescence  in  an  act  that  deprived  her 
of  imperial  favors. 

The  day  for  the  official  promulgation  of  the  act  of 
divorce  was  fixed  for  the  15th  of  December,  on 
which  there  were  assembled,  at  the  Tuileries,  the 
Empress,  Madame-mere,  the  king  and  queen  of 
Holland,  the  king  and  queen  of  Westphalia,  the 
king  and  queen  of  Naples,  the  Prince  viceroy,  the 
Princess  Pauline,  the  arch-chancellor,  Cambeceres, 
and  the  secretary  of  state. 

Josephine  was  pale  and  trembling,  her  children 
calm,  but  only  suppressing  their  emotions  for  their 
mother's  sake. 

Napoleon,  standing,  his  hand  holding  that  of  the 
Empress — those  hands  so  soon  to  be  separated  for- 
ever— addressed  the  arch-chancellor,  in  a  voice  full 
of  dignity  and  tenderness,  but  betraying  at  times 
the  emotion  he  would  have  concealed.  .  .  . 

After  alluding  to  the  circumstances  calling  to- 
gether such  a  distinguished  assemblage  of  witnesses, 
Napoleon  said : 

"The  political  interests  of  my  monarchy,  and  the 
desires  of  my  people,  which  have  constantly  guided 
all  my  actions,  require  that  I  should  leave  behind 
me,  to  heirs  of  my  love  for  my  people,  the  throne 


366  JOSEPHINE. 

upon  which  Providence  has  placed  me.  Meanwhile, 
for  many  years,  I  have  given  up  all  hopes  of  chil- 
dren by  my  marriage  with  my  well-beloved  spouse, 
the  Empress  Josephine  ;  and  this  it  is  which  induces 
me  to  sacrifice  the  sweetest  affections  of  my  heart, 
to  consider  only  the  good  of  my  subjects,  and  desire 
a  dissolution  of  our  marriage. 

"  Arrived  now  at  the  age  of  forty  years,  I  may  rea- 
sonably indulge  a  hope  of  living  long  enough  to 
rear  and  guide  the  children  with  which  it  may 
please  Providence  to  bless  me.  God  knows  what 
such  a  resolution  has  cost  my  heart ;  but  there  is  no 
sacrifice,  however  great,  which  I  would  not  make,  if 
it  be  proved  to  be  for  the  best  interests  of  France. 

"It  is  my  duty  to  add  that,  far  from  having  any 
cause  for  complaint ;  on  the  contrary,  I  have  noth- 
ing but  praise  for  the  tenderness  and  devoted 
attachment  of  my  well-beloved  wife.  She  has  en- 
riched thirteen  years  of  my  life  ;  their  remembrance 
will  be  forever  engraved  on  my  heart.  She  was 
crowned  by  my  hand  ;  she  shall  always  retain  the 
rank  and  title  of  Empress  ;  but,  above  all,  it  is  my 
desire  that  she  shall  never  doubt  my  feelings  to- 
wards her,  nor  regard  me  as  other  than  her  best  and 
dearest  friend." 

He  cast  upon  his  companion  a  look  of  tender  re- 
gard, and  when  he  made  mention  of  those  happy 
years  they  had  passed  together  (too  late  he  acknowl- 
edged they  were  the  happiest  of  his  life),  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears  and  his  voice  failed  him,  as  he 
closed  his  remarks. 


JOSEPHINE.  367 

Josephine's  sweet  voice  was  then  heard  in  re- 
sponse, in  accents  that  lingered  in  Napoleon's  mem- 
ory long  years  after,  when  an  exile  on  the  rock  of 
Saint  Helena,  giving  her  assent  to  the  act  that 
deprived  her  of  the  highest  honor  earth  could  be- 
stow. 

She  declared  her  willingness  to  submit  to  the  will 
of  her  spouse  and  the  desires  of  the  people,  and  to 
give  this  proof  of  her  attachment  and  devotion  in 
the  greatest  sacrifice  that  could  be  asked.  Her 
voice  failed,  and  then,  after  in  vain  attempting  to 
continue,  she  handed  the  paper  to  the  secretary  of 
state,  who  read  it  for  her,  in  a  voice  trembling  with 
emotion.  .  .  .  "  I  owe  everything  to  his  bounty  ;  it 
is  his  hand  that  crowned  me,  that  raised  me  to  the 
height  of  the  throne.  ...  I  respond  to  all  the  senti- 
ments of  the  Emperor,  in  consenting  to  the  dis- 
solution of  a  marriage  which  henceforth  is  an 
obstacle  to  the  happiness  of  France,  by  depriving 
it  of  the  blessing  of  being  one  day  governed  by 
the  descendants  of  that  great  man,  so  evidently 
raised  up  by  Providence  to  efface  the  evils  of  a  ter- 
rible revolution  and  restore  the  altar,  the  throne, 
and  social  order.  But  the  dissolution  of  my  mar- 
riage will  in  no  respect  change  the  sentiments  of  my 
heart ;  the  Emperor  will  ever  find  in  me  his  best 
and  truest  friend.  I  know  how  much  this  act,  com- 
manded by  policy  and  such  exalted  interests,  has 
cost  his  heart  ;  but  we  both  glory  in  the  sacrifices 
which  we  make  to  the  good  of  our  country." 

Later  in  the  day  the  decree  of  the  senate,  which 


368  JOSEPHINE. 

proclaimed  the  act  of  marriage  dissolved,  was  signed 
by  the  Emperor  and  Empress,  and  then  Josephine 
was  taken  to  her  apartments,  faint  with  emotion, 
there  to  weep  in  secret  over  her  unhappy  fate. 

The  Emperor  returned  to  his  cabinet,  silent  and 
sad,  where  he  for  a  long  time  sat  in  gloomy  reflec- 
tion, his  head  supported  upon  his  hand. 

The  next  morning,  while  the  carriages  were  in 
waiting  to  convey  the  Emperer  to  the  Petit  Trianon, 
whither  he  had  decided  to  retreat  for  rest  and  reflec- 
tion, he  seized  his  hat  and  said  to  his  secretary, 
Meneval,  "Come  with  me." 

lie  led  the  way  by  the  secret  passage  from  his 
cabinet  to  the  apartment  of  the  Empress.  He 
opened  the  door  ;  she  Was  there,  alone,  and  in  tears. 
At  sight  of  the  Emperor  she  arose  and  cast  herself 
upon  his  breast,  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 
For  a  few  minutes  the  unhappy  couple  stood  there, 
locked  in  loving  embrace,  then  Bonaparte  summoned 
her  attendants,  delivered  her  into  their  charge, 
hastily  withdrew,  entered  his  carriage,  and  was 
whirled  away. 

Hortense  and  Eugene  soon  after  entered  the 
apartment,  and  finally  succeeded  in  calming  the  agi- 
tation of  the  Empress,  who  was  obliged  to  prepare 
for  the  final  farewells. 

For  the  last  time,  many  of  those  who  had  known 
her  at  the  height  of  her  power,  came  to  bid  her 
adieu,  and  to  solicit  the  honor  of  sharing  her  court 
at  Malmaison.  She  was  affected  to  tears  at  this 
demonstration  of  affection,  but  attended  to  her 


JOSEPHINE.  369 

duties  with  dignity,  and  in  the  afternoon,  accom- 
panied by  her  son  and  her  daughter,  set  out  for 
Malmaison,  bidding  an  eternal  farewell  to  the 
scenes  of  all  her  glory  at  the  Tuileries. 

For  the  crown  she  had  lost  she  felt  not  the  slight- 
est regret ;  for  the  spouse  who  had  bestowed  it  her 
heart  was  breaking. 

"  But  if  he  finds  happiness  thereby,"  she  said,  "  I 
shall  never  regret  the  sacrifice  I  have  made." 

The  concluding  act  of  this  great  sacrifice  was  per- 
formed in  the  senate,  where  high  tribute  was  paid 
to  the  Empress.  Before  the  senators  assembled, 
Eugene  declared  the  sentiments  that  had  actuated 
him  and  his  sister  in  giving  their  adhesion  to  the 
cause  of  Napoleon.  "My  mother,  my  sister,  and 
myself,"  he  said,  "  owe  everything  to  the  Emperor. 
He  has  been  to  us  always  a  loving  father  ;  he  will 
find  in  us  devoted  children  and  submissive  subjects. 
.  .  .  When  my  mother  was  crowned,  in  the  eyes  of 
the  nation,  and  at  the  hands  of  her  august  spouse, 
she  tacitly  contracted  the  obligation  to  sacrifice  her 
own  affections  and  interests  to  the  interests  of 
France.  She  has  complied,  with  courage,  with 
nobility,  and  with  dignity.  .  .  .  She  will  view,  with 
feelings  of  pride  and  satisfaction,  whatever  may 
redound  to  the  happiness  of  her  country  and  the 
Emperor." 

In  an  eloquent  harangue,  the  Count  Lacepede  de- 
clared that  posterity  would  ever  associate  the  name 
of  Josephine  with  the  immortal  deeds  of  Napoleon. 

The  senate  decreed  : 
24 


370  JOSEPHINE. 

I.  The  marriage  contract  between  the  Emperor 
Napoleon  and  the  Empress  Josephine  is  dissolved. 

II.  The  Empress  Josephine  shall  retain  the  title 
and  rank  of  Empress-Queen  Crowned. 

III.  Her  allowance  is  fixed  at  an  annual  payment 
of  two  million  francs,  out  of  the  public  treasury. 

IV.  Whatever  provisions  the  Emperor  shall  make 
in  favor  of  the  Empress  Josephine,  out  of  the  funds 
of  the  civil  list,  shall  be  obligatory  upon  his  succes- 
sors. 

The  decree  of  the  senate  was  transmitted  to  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  by  special  messenger,  and 
also  two  addresses.  In  the  address  to  the  Empress, 
the  senators  reaffirmed  their  appreciation  of  the 
sacrifice  Josephine  had  made  for  France,  declaring 
that  history  would  keep  it  in  eternal  remembrance. 
The  people  of  France  had  for  years  revered  her 
many  virtues ;  they  would  ever  admire  the  sublime 
devotion  of  this  last  act  of  hers,  which  had  sealed 
their  love  and  their  respect. 

This  was  the  last  public  communication  received  by 
Josephine  from  the  State  ;  but  it  was  a  convincing 
testimonial  of  the  regard  in  which  she  was  held  by 
all ;  a  flattering  tribute  to  her  character  ;  the  cap- 
stone to  the  monument  raised  by  her  exemplary  life. 

To  the  gift  of  the  senate,  was  added  by  Napoleon 
the  extensive  property  of  Malmaison,  the  chateau  of 
Navarre,  and  another  million  from  the  civil  list ; 
she  was  also  privileged  to  reside,  when  in  Paris,  at 
the  Palace  of  the  Elysee  ;  thus  had  the  Emperor  ful- 
filled his  promise  to  bestow  upon  her  the  magnifi- 


JOSEPHINE.  371 

cence  that  pertained  to  the  high  rank  to  which  he 
had  raised  her. 

The  royal  pair  had  separated,  but  not  yet  could 
they  remain  apart  ;  on  the  very  next  morning  after 
the  removal  to  Malmaison,  Bonaparte  sought  out  his 
wife,  still  weeping  over  her  irreparable  loss.  To- 
gether they  walked  the  alleys  of  Malmaison,  together 
talked  of  the  pleasures  now  forever  past ;  they  were 
still  friends  ;  no  more  than  that :  no  longer  man 
and  wife,  — as  Napoleon  delicately  conveyed  to  her, 
at  meeting  and  parting,  when  he  took  her  hand, 
pressed  it,  but  without  embracing  her. 

On  his  return  to  Trianon,  that  same  evening,  he 
addressed  her  a  letter  for  her  encouragement,  full 
of  the  tenderness  of  the  happiest  days  of  their 
union.  "  My  friend, "  it  began,  "I  found  thee  to- 
day weaker  than  thou  shouldst  have  been.  Thou 
shouldst  show  more  courage  .  .  .  and  above  all  care 
for  thy  health,  which  is  so  precious  to  me.  .  .  . 
Thou  canst  not  doubt  my  constant  and  sincere 
friendship.  .  .  .  Adieu,  my  friend  ;  sleep  well  ; 
dream  of  me.  NAPOLEON.  " 

Every  day  during  the  month  that  followed  the 
divorce,  the  Empress  received  a  letter  or  a  visit 
from  Bonaparte.  The  courtiers,  seeing  her  still  in 
receipt  of  imperial  favors,  and  taking  their  cue  from 
their  royal  master,  thronged  the  courts  of  Malmai-. 
son  as  of  yore.  Some,  however,  came  out  of  regard 
for  their  former  queen  and  beloved  mistress  ;  but 
these  were  comparatively  few,  and  Josephine  was 
rendered  rather  sad  than  happy  by  their  presence. 


372  JOSEPHINE. 

The  Queen  Hortense  has  published  some  twenty- 
three  letters,  written  by  Napoleon  to  Josephine  dur- 
ing the  three  months  intervening  between  the 
divorce  and  his  second  marriage.  They  are  all  of 
like  tender  and  affectionate  nature,  and  betray  the 
real  feelings  of  the  Emperor,  clearly  showing  that 
the  divorce  was,  as  he  claimed,  demanded  by  policy, 
and  not  by  sentiment. 

"  I  have  received  thy  letter,  my  friend.  Savary 
tells  me  that  he  found  thee  in  tears  ;  that  is  bad  ; 
it  makes  me  sad.  .  .  .  Sleep  well.  ...  I  was  very 
lonely  (he  wrote  after  returning  to  the  Tuileries), 
this  great  palace  is  so  vast  and  vacant ;  I  am  sad, 
not  seeing  thee." 

The  visits  to  Malmaison  were  intermitted,  and 
Josephine  sadly  complained.  He  wrote  :  "I  wish 
very  much  to  go  to  Malmaison,  but  be  calm  ;  the 
page  told  me  this  morning  that  thou  wert  in  tears. 
I  dine  all  alone.  Adieu,  my  friend  ;  do  not  ever 
doubt  my  feelings  towards  thee." 

But,  notwithstanding  all  these  amicable  assur- 
ances, the  report  was  spread  abroad  that  it  was 
Napoleon's  intention  to  banish  his  wife  far  from 
France.  This  came  to  the  ears  of  Josephine,  and 
she  demanded  of  Bonaparte  that  she  be  allowed  to 
reside  a  while  in  the  Elysee  ;  considering  that  his 
consent  would  be  equivalent  to  a  refutation  of  the 
charges.  This  consent  he  not  only  freely  gave,  but 
sent  thither  such  articles  as  she  had  left  at  the 
Tuileries,  including  the  magnificent  toilet-service 
of  gold,  presented  to  her  by  the  city  of  Paris  ;  and 


JOSEPHINE.  373 

taking  the  liveliest  interest  in  fitting  up  the  rooms 
for  her  occupation.  Her  fears  were  quieted,  she 
saw  much  more  of  her  friend,  during  the  last  of 
February  and  the  first  half  of  March,  and  in  conse- 
quence became  more  tranquil  and  resigned. 

Possessed  of  her  own  means  for  ascertaining  the 
movements  of  the  Court,  Josephine  soon  became 
aware  of  the  negotiations  which  were  in  progress 
for  the  hand  of  Marie  Louise.  Whether  it  was 
that  she  did  not  wish  to  witness  the  arrival  of  her 
successor  to  the  throne  and  heart  of  Napoleon,  or 
that  it  was  in  obedience  to  a  request  of  the  Emperor, 
Josephine  applied  for  leave  to  retire  to  her  country- 
seat,  the  castle  of  Navarre.  This  was  granted,  and 
to  that  beautiful  but  isolated  spot  she  made  her 
retreat,  with  the  members  of  her  little  court,  a  few 
days  before  the  marriage  of  Bonaparte  with  the 
Austrian  Archduchess. 

With  the  second  marriage  of  Napoleon  terminates 
the  life  of  Josephine  as  connected  with  the  great 
man  who  had  showered  such  favors  upon  the  com- 
panion of  his  glorious  reign. 

After  thirteen  years  of  intimate  companionship, 
after  having  testified  in  a  thousand  ways  to  the 
regard  and  love  he  had  felt  for  the  woman  of  his 
first  choice,  Napoleon  had  wedded  another  :  young, 
sweet,  naive,  who  was  no  more  in  love  with  him 
than  was  Josephine  during  the  campaign  of  Italy. 

Napoleon's  absorption  during  the  imperial  honey- 
moon, his  tender  regard  for  his  bride,  all  the  details 
of  this  event,  so  distressing  to  Josephine,  were 


374  JOSEPHINE. 

promptly  reported  at  Navarre,  where  they  were 
commented  upon  and  doubtless  exaggerated,  to  the 
wounding  of  her  sensitive  heart. 

She  had  courageously  renounced  her  place  by  his 
side  upon  the  throne,  she  had  abandoned  forever 
her  claims  upon  him  as  her  spouse  ;  but  she  was 
wounded  afresh  at  the  thought  of  forgetfulness  on 
his  part.  Her  regard  for  him  was  unchanged,  she 
had  accepted  his  marriage  as  but  a  proof  of  his 
integrity  of  intention  ;  she  had  schooled  herself  to 
reconcile  it  with  the  scheme  for  securing  an  heir  to 
the  throne.  But  she  had  not  renounced  all  claim 
to  his  friendship,  and  when  the  days  passed  without 
an  answer  to  the  letter  she  had  written,  a  few  days 
before  leaving  Malmaison,  she  became  alarmed. 

Arrived  at  Navarre  and  finding  the  chateau 
scarcely  habitable,  she  had  written  to  Napoleon  for 
means  wherewith  to  make  the  indispensable  repairs  ; 
in  default,  for  permission  to  return  to  Malmaison. 
No  reply  being  made,  as  the  Emperor  was  then  en- 
grossed in  this  new  and  absorbing  passion  for  Marie 
Louise,  Josephine's  fears  grew  in  proportion  to  the 
continued  silence,  and  she  augured  from  it  a  pros- 
pective exile,  not  only  from  Paris,  but  from  her 
beloved  France,  as  well.  She  pressed  her  son  to 
obtain  audience  of  the  Emperor,  and  ascertain  if 
she  might  return  to  Malmaison,  regarding  his  reply 
as  the  touchstone  of  his  intentions  respecting  her 
exile.  His  reply,  according  to  her  all  she  desired, 
set  her  fears  at  rest,  and  assuaged  her  grief. 

This  negotiation  led  to  the  passage  of  the  three 


JOSEPHINE.  375 

letters  following,  between  Josephine  and  Napoleon, 
which  are  the  last  we  shall  submit  of  their  long-con- 
tinued correspondence  ;  and  which  present  more 
clearly  than  anything  else  their  situation  and  respect- 
ive sentiments  during  this  first  year  of  their  divorce. 
The  first  written  by  Josephine  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  favor,  and  laboriously  prepared,  doubt- 
less after  consultation  with  the  ladies  of  her  court, 
affects  the  official  form,  which  until  then  had  never 
been  used  by  either,  but  which  she  may  have  con- 
sidered as  demanded  by  her  novel  position  and  the 

silence  of  the  Emperor. 

"NAVARRE,  19th  April,  1810. 

"  SIRE.  ...  I  have  received  by  the  hand  of  my  son 
the  assurance  that  Your  Majesty  consents  to  my 
return  to  Malmaison,  and  grants  the  advances  nec- 
essary to  complete  the  repairs  of  the  chateau  of  Na- 
varre. This  double  favor,  sire,  dissipates  in  great  part 
the  uneasiness  and  fears  which  the  silence  of  Your 
Majesty  had  inspired.  I  had  feared  I  was  entirely 
banished  from  your  remembrance  ;  I  now  see  that 
I  am  not,  and  am  to-day  less  unhappy — even  hap- 
pier than  I  had  thought  it  possible  to  be. 

"  I  shall  leave  at  the  end  of  the  month  for  Malmai- 
son, since  Your  Majesty  has  no  objection.  .  .  .  My 
intention  is  to  reside  there  a  very  short  time  ;  then 
to  go  away  for  the  waters.  But,  while  I  am  at 
Malmaison,  Your  Majesty  may  be  assured  that  I 
shall  live  as  if  I  were  a  thousand  leagues  distant 
from  Paris.  .  .  . 

"  I  shall  not  cease  to  pray  for  Your  Majesty's 
happiness.  JOSEPHINE." 


376  JOSEPHINE. 

The  Emperor's  reply.  .  .  . 

"  COMPIEGNE,  21st  April,  1810. 

"  MY  FRIEND  :  I  have  received  the  letter  of  the  nine- 
teenth ;  permit  me  to  say  it  is  in  very  bad  style.  I 
am  always  the  same  ;  my  likes  never  change.  I  do 
not  know  what  Eugene  may  have  said  to  thee,  but 
I  did  not  write,  because  thou  shouldst  have  known 
that  I  would  approve  whatever  would  be  agree- 
able to  thee. 

"  I  see  with  pleasure  that  thou  art  going  to  Mal- 
maison,  and  that  thou  art  pleased  ;  as  for  me  I  shall 
be  happy  to  receive  news  from  thee  and  to  send  thee 
mine.  I  say  no  more,  only  ask  that  thou  wilt  com- 
pare this  letter  with  thine,  and  after  that  I  leave  to 
thee  to  declare  which  is  the  most  friendly,  thine  or 
mine.  Adieu,  my  friend  ;  take  the  best  care  of  thy- 
self, and  try  to  judge  impartially. 

"  NAPOLEON.'' 

With  what  happiness  Josephine  received  this 
tender  epistle  may  be  seen  by  her  response,  in  which 
her  overflowing  heart  expressed  itself.  .  .  . 

"  A  thousand  thousand  thanks  for  not  having  for- 
gotten me.  My  son  brought  me  thy  letter.  With 
what  ardor  I  devoured  its  contents !  .  .  .  There 
was  not  a  word  that  did  not  make  me  weep  ;  but 
these  tears  were  tears  of  joy,  and  sweet.  .  .  . 

"  I  shall  be  in  despair,  lest  my  letter  of  the  nine- 
teenth shall  have  displeased  thee.  I  cannot  recall 
exactly  my  expressions,  but  I  remember  the  painful 


JOSEPHINE.  377 

sentiments  that  dictated  it ;  my  chagrin  at  not  hav- 
ing heard  from  thee.  But  I  knew  the  reasons  for 
thy  silence  and  I  feared  to  trouble  thee  with  a  letter. 
Thine  has  been  a  balm  for  my  hurt.  Mayest  thou 
be  happy,  and  receive  all  thou  meritest ;  my  whole 
heart  wishes  it.  ...  Adieu,  my  friend ;  I  thank 
thee  tenderly,  as  I  shall  ever  love  thee. 

"JOSEPHINE." 

Comment  upon  these  letters  is  unnecessary,  nay, 
superfluous,  for  they  show  the  existing  relations  be- 
tween these  two,  their  mutual  affection,  the  nature 
of  the  tie  that  bound  them  together,  and  which 
naught  but  death  could  separate. 

Josephine  returned  to  Malmaison  in  the  first  part 
of  May,  while  the  Emperor  and  his  wife  were  absent 
on  a  visit  to  the  departments  of  the  north. 

During  his  journey  Napoleon  wrote  her  briefly  :  .  . 
"I  desire  to  see  thee  very  much.  If  thou  art  at 
Malmaison  at  the  end  of  the  month,  I  shall  call.  .  .  . 
Do  not  doubt  my  regard  for  thee." 

The  Emperor  kept  his  word,  but  made  the  visit 
in  secret,  out  of  regard  for  his  new  wife,  who  was 
beginning  to  experience  a  feeling  of  jealousy  at  the 
frequent  communications  of  her  husband  with  his 
discarded  spouse. 

In  a  letter  to  her  daughter,  Josephine  recounted 
this  visit,  which  was  on  the  twelfth  of  June.  .  .  . 
"I  had  yesterday  a  very  happy  day,  for  the  Emperor 
came  to  see  me.  .  .  .  During  the  time  he  is  here  I 
seem  to  have  the  courage  to  withhold  my  tears,  but 


378  JOSEPHINE. 

as  soon  as  he  is  gone  they  will  burst  forth,  and  I  am 
very  unhappy. 

"  He  was  as  good  and  agreeable  as  usual,  and 
I  only  hope  that  he  saw  in  my  heart  all  the  ten- 
derness and  devotion  with  which  it  is  filled  for 
him." 

Josephine  soon  sought  the  waters  of  Aix,  where 
she  was  informed  of  the  abdication  of  the  King  of 
Holland,  and  where  her  daughter,  the  Queen,  soon 
after  joined  her,  with  her  two  sons. 

During  this  absence  of  Josephine  from  France, 
the  Emperor,  as  though  desirous  of  honoring  her 
family  through  her  relatives,  consummated  the  mar- 
riage of  the  young  aide-de-camp,  Louis  de  Tascher, 
with  the  Princess  Amelia,  whose  father  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Rhine  Confederation.  This  union,  which 
became  a  very  happy  one,  had  a  sad  beginning,  in 
the  death  of  the  Princess's  mother,  from  injuries 
received  at  the  Austrian  Ambassador's  ball,  in  July. 
She  survived  but  a  few  days,  but  before  her  death 
expressed  her  satisfaction  at  the  approaching  mar- 
riage of  her  daughter  with  the  cousin-german  of  the 
Empress  Josephine. 

But  these  attentions,  and  the  affection  manifested 
by  Napoleon  for  his  f omer  wife,  aroused  the  jealousy 
of  Marie  Louise,  who,  whatever  her  charms  of  person 
and  character,  had  not  the  lofty,  self-sacrificing 
disposition  and  amiable  characteristics  of  Josephine. 

She  could  not  understand  the  nature  of  their 
friendship,  and  doubted  the  evidence  that  assumed 
a  friendship  without  love,  a  strong  affection  with- 


JOSEPHINE.  379 

out  compromising  attentions,  on  the  one  side  or  the 
other. 

Notwithstanding  the  care  taken  by  the  Emperor 
to  conceal  his  visits  to  Malmaison  from  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  Empress,  she  became  aware  of  them  and 
he  was  compelled  to  submit  to  her  reproaches.  In 
order  to  calm  her,  the  Emperor  ceased  his  visits  and 
discontinued  his  correspondence ;  then  there  were 
complaints  from  the  borders  of  Lake  Geneva,  where 
the  first  wife  had  established  herself  for  the  season. 

Soon  after,  Bourrienne,  writing  of  this  period, 
says  :  "I  repaired  to  Malmaison  ;  I  was  ushered  into 
the  tent  drawing-room,  where  I  found  Josephine  and 
Hortense.  When  I  entered  Josephine  stretched  out 
her  hand  to  me  saying,  'Ah,  my  friend.'  These 
words  she  pronounced  with  deep  emotion,  and  tears 
prevented  her  from  continuing.  .  .  .  Josephine 
confirmed  what  Duroc  had  told  me  respecting  the 
two  apartments  at  Fontainebleau  ;  then,  coming  to 
the  period  when  Bonaparte  had  declared  to  her  the 
necessity  of  a  separation,  she  said  :  .  .  .  '  On  the 
30th  of  November  we  were  dining  together  as  usual, 
I  had  not  uttered  a  word  during  that  sad  dinner,  and 
he  had  broken  silence  only  to  ask  one  of  the  serv- 
ants what  o'clock  it  was.  As  soon  as  Bonaparte 
had  taken  his  coffee,  he  dismissed  all  the  attendants, 
and  I  remained  alone  with  him.  I  saw  in  the  ex- 
pression of  his  countenance  what  was  passing  in 
his  mind,  and  knew  that  my  hour  was  come.  He 
stepped  up  to  me — he  was  trembling,  and  I 
shuddered ;  he  took  my  hand,  pressed  it  to  his  heart, 


380  JOSEPHINE. 

and  after  gazing  at  me  for  a  few  moments  in  silence 
he  uttered  these  fatal  words  :  "  Josephine,  my  dear 
Josephine,  you  know  how  I  have  loved  you  .... 
To  you,  to  you  alone,  I  owe  the  only  moments  of 
happiness  I  have  tasted  in  this  world.  But,  Jose- 
phine, my  destiny  is  not  to  be  controlled  by  my  will. 
My  dearest  affections  must  yield  to  the  interests  of 
France." 

"  '  "  Say  no  more,"  I  exclaimed,  "  I  understand 
you  ;  I  expected  this,  but  the  blow  is  not  the  less 
mortal."  I  could  not  say  another  word  ;  I  know  not 
what  happened  after,  I  seemed  to  lose  my  reason  ;  I 
became  insensible,  and  when  I  recovered  I  found  my- 
self in  my  chamber.  Bonaparte  came  to  see  me  in 
the  evening  ;  and,  oh,  Bourrienne,  how  can  I  describe 
to  you  what  I  felt  at  the  sight  of  him  ;  even  the 
interest  he  evinced  for  me  seemed  an  additional 
cruelty.  .  .  .  Alas  ...  I  had  good  reason  to  fear 
ever  becoming  an  Empress.' 

"  I  knew  not  what  consolation  to  offer  to  Josephine ; 
and  knowing  as  I  did  the  natural  lightness  of  her 
character,  I  should  have  been  surprised  to  find  her 
grief  so  acute,  after  the  lapse  of  a  year,  had  I  not 
been  aware  that  there  are  certain  chords  which, 
when  struck,  do  not  speedily  cease  to  vibrate  in  the 
heart  of  a  woman.  Though  more  than  a  twelve- 
month had  elapsed  since  the  divorce,  grief  still 
preyed  on  the  heart  of  Josephine.  '  You  cannot  con- 
ceive, my  friend,'  she  often  said  to  me,  *  all  the  tor- 
ments that  I  have  suffered  since  that  fatal  day.  I 
cannot  imagine  how  I  survived  it.  And  the  first 


JOSEPHINE.  381 

time  he  came  to  visit  me  after  his  marriage — what  a 
meeting  was  that  !  .  .  .  How  many  tears  I  shed ! 
The  days  on  which  he  comes  are  to  me  days  of 
misery,  for  he  spares  me  not.  How  cruel  to  speak 
of  his  expected  heir.  Bourrienne,  you  cannot  con- 
ceive how  heart-rending  all  this  is  to  me.  Better,  far 
better,  to  be  exiled  a  thousand  leagues  from  hence. 
However,  a  few  friends  still  remain  faithful  in  my 
changed  fortune,  and  that  is  now  the  only  thing 
which  affords  me  even  temporary  consolation.' 

"  The  truth  is,  that  she  was  extremely  unhappy, 
and  the  most  acceptable  consolation  her  friends 
could  offer  was  to  weep  with  her.  Yet,  such  was 
Josephine's  passion  for  dress,  that  after  having  wept 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  she  would  dry  her  tears  to 
give  audience  to  milliners  and  dressmakers. 

"  One  day  I  remember  that,  taking  advantage  of 
the  momentary  serenity  occasioned  by  an  ample 
display  of  sparkling  gewgaws,  I  congratulated  her 
upon  the  happy  influence  they  exercised  over  her 
spirits  when  she  said :  '  My  dear  friend,  I  ought, 
indeed,  to  be  indifferent  to  all  this  ;  but  it  is  a  habit.' 
Josephine  might  have  added  that  it  was  also  an 
occupation,  for  it  would  be  no  exaggeration  to  say 
that  if  the  time  she  wasted  in  tears  and  at  her  toilet 
had  been  subtracted  from  her  short  life,  its  duration 
would  have  been  considerably  shortened." 

And  the  Duchesse  d'Abrantes,  at  Malmaison — 
"  Upon  this  the  Empress  drew  closer  to  me — she 
was  already  very  near — and,  taking  both  my  hands, 
said,  in  a  tone  of  grief  which  is  still  present  to  my 


382  JOSEPHINE. 

mind  after  an  interval  of  four-and-twenty  years  : 
1  Madame  Junot,  I  entreat  you  to  tell  me  all  you 
have  heard  relating  to  me.  I  ask  it  as  a  special 
favor — you  know  that  they  all  desire  to  ruin  me, 
my  Hortense,  and  my  Eugene.' 

"She  spoke  with  the  greatest  anxiety:  her  lips 
trembled,  and  her  hands  were  damp  and  cold.  '  Ma- 
dame Junot,'  she  said,  '  remember  what  I  say  to  you 
this  day  :  remember  that  this  separation  will  be  my 
death,  and  it  is  they  who  will  have  killed  me.  .  .  . 
Yet  God  is  my  witness  that  I  love  him  more  than  my 
life,  and  much  more  than  that  throne,  that  crown, 
which  he  has  given  me.'  The  Empress  may  have 
appeared  more  beautiful,  but  never  more  attractive, 
than  at  that  moment.  If  Napoleon  had  seen  her 
then,  surely  he  could  never  have  divorced  her.  Ah, 
in  summing  up  the  misfortunes  of  this  fatal  year, 
that  divorce  must  be  added  to  render  them  com- 
plete. 

"I  went  again  to  Malmaison  a  few  days  after- 
wards with  my  little  Josephine,  whom  her  god-mother 
had  desired  me  to  bring  ;  this  time,  as  I  was  alone 
with  her,  she  did  not  scruple  to  open  all  the  sorrows 
of  her  heart,  and  she  spoke  of  her  grief  with  an  en- 
ergy of  truth  quite  distressing.  She  regretted  all  she 
had  lost ;  but  it  is  justice  to  say  that  far  above  all 
she  regretted  the  Emperor.  The  attentions  of  her 
children  in  those  days  of  suffering  were  admirable. 

"  The  letters  which  I  received  from  my  friends  in 
Paris  naturally  made  mention  of  the  new  Empress. 
The  most  varied  opinions  were  pronounced  upon 


JOSEPHINE.  383 

her  ;  Cardinal  Maury  sent  me  a  letter  in  which  he 
said  :  '  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  how  much  the 
Emperor  is  attached  to  our  charming  Empress. 
This  time  he  may  be  said  to  be  really  in  love ;  more 
truly  in  love  than  he  ever  was  with  Josephine  ;  for, 
after  all,  he  never  saw  her  while  she  was  very  young. 
She  was  upward  of  thirty  when  they  were  married. 
But  Marie  Louise  is  as  young  and  as  blooming  as 
spring.  You  will  be  enchanted  with  her  when  you 
see  her  ' 

In  1812,  she  writes  : — "  I  observed  that  Josephine 
had  grown  very  stout  since  the  time  of  my  de- 
parture for  Spain.  This  change  was  at  once  for 
the  better  and  the  worse.  It  imparted  a  more 
youthful  appearance  to  her  face ;  but  her  slender 
and  elegant  figure,  which  had  been  one  of 
her  principal  attractions,  had  entirely  disappeared. 
Still,  however,  she  looked  uncommonly  well,  and 
she  wore  a  dress  which  became  her  admirably. 
Her  exquisite  and  judicious  taste  in  these  matters 
contributed  to  make  her  appear  young  much 
longer  than  she  otherwise  would.  .  .  .  The  best 
proof  that  can  be  adduced  of  the  admirable  taste  of 
Josephine  is  the  marked  absence  of  elegance  dis- 
played by  Marie  Louise,  though  both  Empresses 
employed  the  same  milliners  and  dressmakers,  and 
Marie  Louise  had  a  large  sum  allotted  for  the 
expenses  of  her  toilet." 


384  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

NAVARRE  AND  MALMAISON. 

THE  Empress  could  not  banish  the  specter  of  ex- 
ile, and  she  wrote  her  daughter,  after  she  had  re- 
turned to  Paris,  to  ascertain  the  Emperor's  inten- 
tions beyond  peradventure.  Three  weeks  passed 
without  news  from  Hortense — three  months,  they 
seemed  to  Josephine — who  wrote  to  the  Queen,  from 
Berne  :  .  .  .  "Not  one  word  from  thee  during  the 
twenty  days  of  our  separation.  What  can  be  the 
cause  of  thy  silence  ?  I  confess  that  I  am  lost  in 
conjecture  and  do  not  know  what  to  think.  .  .  .  If  I 
do  not  hear  from  thee  in  three  days,  ...  I  shall 
return  to  Malmaison  ;  there,  at  least,  I  shall  be  in 
France ;  and  if  everybody  abandons  me  I  will  live 
alone,  serene  in  the  consciousness  of  having  sacrificed 
my  own  happiness  for  the  good  of  others." 

This  letter  was  needless,  for  on  the  following  day 
came  one  from  Hortense  that  put  an  end  to  all  her 
fears,  for  it  informed  her  that  the  Emperor  left  her 
entirely  free  to  do  as  she  pleased  :  to  remain  in 
Switzerland,  to  go  to  Italy,  or  to  return  to  Navarre 
or  even  to  Malmaison.  Soon  after  he  wrote  her  by 
his  own  hand,  confirming  all  that  had  been  trans- 


JOSEPHINE.  385 

mitted  through  the  Queen.  While  he  advised  her 
to  make  the  journey  to  Italy,  as  a  distraction,  and 
to  see  her  son,  yet  he  left  her  at  perfect  liberty ; 
counseling  her,  however,  if  she  wished  to  return  to 
France,  to  take  up  her  residence  at  Navarre,  in  pref- 
erence to  Malmaison.  Upon  the  reception  of  this 
favor,  the  Empress  at  once  decided  to  establish  her- 
self at  Navarre,  and  in  this  beautiful  chateau  she 
resided  for  nearly  a  year,  not  even  visiting  her  be- 
loved Paris  during  that  period.  Here  she  received 
the  intelligence  of  the  birth  of  an  heir  to  the  throne, 
(20th  March,  1811),  in  a  letter  from  Napoleon  him- 
self. One  of  her  ladies  wrote  of  this  event  :  - 

"We  dared  not  question  the  Empress,  but  ob- 
serving our  curiosity  she  had  the  condescension  to 
gratify  us  with  a  sight  of  the  letter,  which  consisted 
of  ten  or  twelve  lines,  traced  on  one  page,  and  was, 
as  usual,  covered  with  blots.  I  do  not  exactly  re- 
member the  commencement,  but  the  conclusion 
was,  word  for  word, — '  This  infant,  in  concert  with 
our  Eugene,  will  constitute  our  happiness,  and  that 
of  France.'  'Is  it  possible,'  remarked  the  Empress, 
'for  one  to  be  more  amiable,  or  could  anything 
be  better  calculated  to  soothe  whatever  might  be 
painful  in  my  thoughts  at  this  moment,  did  I  not  so 
sincerely  love  the  Emperor.  This  uniting  of  my  son 
with  his  own  is  indeed  worthy  of  him,  who  when  he 
wills,  is  the  most  delightful  of  men.  This  it  is 
which  has  so  much  moved  me.' 

"  She  presented  the  messenger  with  a  diamond 
brooch  valued  at  5,000  francs,  and  arranged  a 
25 


386  JOSEPHINE. 

splendid  fete  in  honor  of  the  birth  of  the  King  of 
Rome." 

After  some  months  at  Navarre,  Josephine  left 
that  chateau  and  established  herself  at  Malmaison, 
where  she  was  surrounded  with  a  brilliant  court, 
little  differing  in  its  details  from  that  of  her  rival  at 
the  Tuileries.  This  court  was  that  of  a  veritable  sov- 
ereign, yet  with  less  of  etiquette  than  that  at  the 
palace ;  greater  liberty  in  its  members  and  more  of 
real  pleasure  in  the  great  affairs  of  life.  The  Em- 
press here  abandoned  herself  to  the  indulgence  of 
her  tastes  for  natural  history,  botany,  and  the 
arts.  She  revived  the  fortunate  days  of  the  First 
Consulate  and  having  at  her  command  three  millions 
of  revenue  (which  she  never  imagined  could  be 
diminished),  she  indulged  her  inclinations  for  charity 
and  benevolence  to  the  full. 

She  launched  into  a  course  of  extravagance  that 
soon  plunged  her  anew  into  debt,  and  some  time 
after  drew  down  upon  her  a  well-merited  reproof 
from  Napoleon,  whose  methodical  tastes,  even  in 
the  matter  of  large  expenditures,  were  outraged  at 
her  recklessness. 

He  advised  her  to  conduct  her  affairs  with  more 
economy  ;  to  put  aside  half  of  the  3,000,000  he  allowed 
her,  for  the  future ;  she  would  then  have,  in  ten  years, 
a  reserve  of  some  10,000,000,  with  which  she  could 
endow  her  grandchildren,  when  they  married. 

Instead  of  that,  reports  constantly  reached  him 
that  she  was  again  in  debt.  What  should  he  think 
of  her  :  in  debt,  with  three  millions  of  revenue  ? 


JOSEPHINE.  387 

The  Empress  deserved  this  reproof  ;  indeed,  it  is 
wonderful,  the  patience  shown  towards  her  follies 
by  her  former  spouse.  But,  although  she  used  to  re- 
ceive his  scoldings  with  indifference,  at  least  with 
only  a  gush  of  tears,  this  letter  produced  such  an 
effect  upon  her  that  she  took  to  her  bed,  overcome 
with  chagrin.  Information  of  this  having  been 
conveyed  to  Napoleon,  he  hastened  to  send  her,  by 
a  special  messenger,  a  proof  of  his  continued  affec- 
tion, in  this,  the  last,  letter  contained  in  the  pub- 
lished memoirs  of  Queen  Hortense. 

"  Friday,  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  1813. 

"  I  send  to  know  the  state  of  thy  health,  for  Hor- 
tense tells  me  that  yesterday  thou  wert  all  day  in 
bed.  I  am  vexed  with  thee  on  account  of  thy  debts  ; 
I  did  not  expect  thee  to  spend  all  thy  income  ;  on 
the  contrary,  I  had  thought  thou  wouldst  put  aside 
at  least  a  million  each  year,  for  thy  grandchildren, 
when  they  married. 

"  Nevertheless,  do  not  doubt  my  friendship  for 
thee,  and  do  not  be  vexed  on  account  of  what  I 
wrote.  Adieu,  my  friend  ;  let  me  kriow  that  thou 
art  better.  They  tell  me  that  thou  art  getting  as 
fat  as  a  Normandy  farmer's  wife. 

"  NAPOLEON." 

As  early  as  the  year  1800,  we  have  convincing 
proof  of  Josephine's  senseless  extravagance,  as  shown 
in  this  excerpt  from  Bourrienne.  .  .  . 

"  Bonaparte  said  to  me  :  '  Talleyrand  has  been 


388  JOSEPHINE. 

speaking  to  me  about  the  debts  of  my  wife.  I  have 
the  money  from  Hamburg, — ask  her  the  exact 
amount  of  her  debts  ;  let  her  confess  all.  I  wish  to 
finish,  and  not  begin  again.  But  do  not  pay  with- 
out showing  me  the  bills  of  those  rascals  :  they  are 
a  gang  of  robbers.' 

"  The  next  morning  I  saw  Josephine.  She  was  at 
first  delighted  with  her  husband's  intentions ;  but 
this  feeling  did  not  last  long.  When  I  asked  her 
for  the  exact  amount  of  what  she  owed  she  entreated 
me  not  to  press  it,  but  content  myself  with  what 
she  should  confess. 

"  She  said  :  '  I  can  never  tell  all,  it  is  impossible. 
Do  me  the  service  to  keep  secret  what  I  say  to 
you.  I  owe,  I  believe,  about  1,200,000  francs,  but  I 
wish  to  confess  to  only  600,000  ;  I  will  contract  no 
more  debts,  and  will  pay  the  rest,  little  by  little,  out 
of  my  savings.  I  said  to  her  :  '  Madame,  I  cannot 
deceive  you  respecting  the  disposition  of  the  First 
Consul.  He  believes  that  you  owe  a  considerable 
sum,  and  is  willing  to  discharge  it.  You  will,  I 
doubt  not,  have  to  endure  some  bitter  reproaches 
and  a  violent  scene  ;  but  the  scene  will  be  just  the 
same  for  the  whole  as  for  a  part.  ...  As  I  do  not 
believe  he  estimates  your  debts  at  so  high  a  sum  as 
600,000  francs  I  can  warrant  that  you  will  not 
experience  more  displeasure  for  acknowledging  to 
the  whole  than  to  the  half ;  and  by  doing  so  you 
will  get  rid  of  them  forever.' 

"  '  I  can  never  do  it,  Bourrienne ;  I  know  him  ;  I 
can  never  support  his  violence.' 


JOSEPHINE.  389 

"  At  last  I  was  obliged  to  yield  to  her  earnest  solic- 
itation, and  promise  to  mention  only  the  600,000 
francs  to  the  First  Consul. 

"  His  anger  and  ill-humor  may  be  imagined.  He 
strongly  suspected  that  his  wife  was  dissembling  in 
some  respect,  but  he  said  :  '  Well,  take  600,000 
francs,  but  liquidate  the  debt  for  that  sum,  and  let 
me  hear  nothing  more  on  the  subject.  I  authorize 
you  to  threaten  these  tradesmen  with  paying  noth- 
ing, if  they  do  not  reduce  their  enormous  charges. 
They  ought  to  be  taught  not  to  be  so  ready  in  giving 
her  credit.'  Madame  Bonaparte  gave  me  all  her 
bills.  The  extent  to  which  the  articles  had  been 
overcharged  was  inconceivable.  I  observed  in  the 
milliner's  bill  alone  thirty-eight  new  hats,  of  great 
price,  in  one  month.  There  was  likewise  a  charge 
of  1,800  francs  for  heron  plumes,  and  800  francs  for 
perfumes.  I  asked  Josephine  whether  she  wore  out 
two  hats  in  one  day  ?  She  objected  to  this  charge, 
which  she  called  a  mistake.  ...  I  availed  myself 
fully  of  the  First  Consul's  permission,  and  spared 
neither  reproaches  nor  menaces.  I  am  ashamed  to 
say  that  the  greater  part  of  the  tradesmen  were 
contented  with  the  half  of  what  they  demanded. 
One  of  them  received  35,000  francs  for  a  bill  of 
80,000  ;  and  he  had  the  impudence  to  tell  me  that  he 
had  made  a  good  profit,  nevertheless.  Finally  I  was 
fortunate  enough  after  the  most  vehement  disputes, 
to  settle  everything  for  600,000  francs.  Madame 
Bonaparte,  however,  soon  fell  into  the  same  excesses  ; 
but  fortunately  money  became  more  plentiful. 


390  JOSEPHINE. 

"This  inconceivable  mania  for  spending  money 
was  almost  the  sole  cause  of  her  unhappiness.  Her 
thoughtless  profusion  occasioned  permanent  dis- 
order in  her  household  until  the  period  of  Bona- 
parte's second  marriage,  when  I  am  informed  she 
became  regular  in  her  expenditure." 

Says  Bonaparte's  second  secretary,  Meneval,  .  .  . 
"  She  had  a  mania  for  having  herself  painted,  and 
gave  her  portraits  to  whoever  wished  for  one.  .  .  . 
The  tradesmen  never  ceased  bringing  her  diamonds, 
jewels,  shawls,  and  trinkets  of  all  kinds  ;  she  bought 
everything,  without  ever  asking  the  price ;  and 
generally  forgot  what  she  had  purchased.  .  .  .  After 
the  divorce,  her  income,  large  as  it  was,  was  insuf- 
ficient ;  but  the  Emperor  was  more  compassionate 
then,  and  when  sending  the  Comte  Mollien  to  settle 
her  affairs  gave  him  strict  orders  not  to  make  her 
weep.  .  .  .  The  amiable  Josephine  had  not  less  ambi- 
tion in  small  things  than  her  husband  had  in  great. 
She  felt  pleasure  in  acquiring,  but  not  in  possess- 
ing. .  .  .  My  intercourse  with  Josephine  was  de- 
lightful, for  I  never  saw  a  woman  who  so  constantly 
entered  society  with  such  an  equable  disposition,  or 
so  much  of  the  spirit  of  kindness,  which  is  the  first 
principle  of  amiability." 

Again,  Bourrienne,  in  the  year  1805.  "Bona- 
parte said  to  me  :  '  Bourrienne,  you  must,  before  I 
proceed  to  Italy,  do  me  a  service.  Go  to  my  wife  ; 
endeavor  once  more  to  make  her  sensible  of  her  mad 
extravagance.  Every  day  I  discover  new  instances 
of  it,  and  it  distresses  me.  When  I  speak  to  her  on 


JOSEPHINE.  391 

the  subject  I  am  vexed  ;  I  get  angry — she  weeps.  I 
forgive  her,  I  pay  her  bills, — she  makes  fair  prom- 
ises ;  but  the  same  thing  occurs  over  and  over 
again.  If  she  had  only  borne  me  a  child.  It  is  the 
torment  of  my  life  not  to  have  had  a  child.  I  plainly 
perceive  that  my  power  will  never  be  firmly  estab- 
lished until  I  have  one.  If  I  die  without  an  heir, 
not  one  of  my  brothers  is  capable  of  supplying  my 
place.  All  is  begun,  but  nothing  is  ended.  God 
knows  what  will  happen.  Go  and  see  Josephine  ; 
and,  do  not  forget  my  injunctions.'  ...  I  ac- 
quainted the  Empress  with  all  that  the  Emperor 
had  said  to  me.  I  reminded  her  of  the  affair  of  the 
1,200,000  francs,  which  we  had  settled  with  half 
that  sum.  I  even  dropped  some  allusion  to  the  prom- 
ises she  had  made.  'How  can  I  help  it,'  said  she. 
1  Is  it  my  fault  ? '  Josephine  uttered  these  words  in 
a  tone  of  sincerity  which  was  at  once  affecting  and 
ludicrous.  .  .  .  '  All  sorts  of  beautiful  things  are 
brought  to  me  ;  they  are  praised  up  ;  I  buy  them — I 
am  not  asked  for  the  money — and  all  of  a  sudden, 
when  I  have  no  money,  they  come  upon  me  with 
demands  for  payment.  This  reaches  Napoleon's 
ears  and  he  gets  angry.  When  I  have  money,  Bour- 
rienne,  you  know  how  I  employ  it.  I  give  it  princi- 
pally to  the  unfortunate,  and  to  the  poor  emigrants. 
But  I  will  try  to  be  more  economical  in  the  future. 
Tell  him  so  if  you  see  him  again.  But  is  it  not  my 
duty  to  bestow  as  much  in  charity  as  I  can  ? '  .  .  .  " 
It  was  in  vain  that  her  errors  of  extravagance 
were  pointed  out ;  Josephine  never  reformed  in  this 


392  JOSEPHINE. 

respect,  and  to  the  last  was  a  spendthrift  of  the  hard- 
earned  money  given  her  by  the  people  of  France. 
She  entirely  changed  the  aspect  of  the  chateau  of 
Navarre,  and  was  continually  expending  large  sums 
in  the  embellishment  of  Malmaison.  She  had  a 
model  sheep- farm  and  introduced  rare  varieties  of 
merinos ;  a  dairy,  in  charge  of  Swiss,  whom  she 
had  brought  with  her,  who  lived  in  a  pretty  chalet 
and  were  clad  in  their  national  costume.  The  gal- 
lery, the  green-house,  the  botanic  garden,  the  men- 
agerie :  all  these  received  her  unwearied  attention, 
and  consumed  her  millions.  She  was  in  almost 
daily  consultation  with  M.  Lenoir,  on  art ;  Redoute, 
the  flower-painter  ;  Isabey,  her  designer  ;  and  M. 
Aime  Bonpland,  the  great  botanist,  celebrated  for 
his  voyages  in  company  with  Humboldt.*  Malmai- 
son did  not  lack  for  company  and  distinguished 
guests  ;  among  them  Cambaceres,  as  well  as  the 
courtiers  of  the  Tuileries  ;  for,  since  the  birth  of 
the  king  of  Rome,  Marie  Louise  had  lost  her  jealous 
fears,  and  Napoleon  frequently  inquired  of  his 
friends  as  to  news  from  Josephine.  Quick  to  take 
this  hint,  the  obsequious  courtiers  thronged  the 

*  Malmaison  :  Fontaine,  1800  :  "  Madame  Bonaparte  is  much  dis- 
tressed at  our  making  some  straight  paths  ;  she  wants  everything 
done  in  the  English  fashion.  .  .  .  Our  heresy  in  regard  to  the  present 
fashion  of  gardens  has  much  injured  us  in  her  estimation.  .  .  .  To 
speak  about  order  and  regularity  in  a  garden  was  sheer  blasphemy.  .  ,  . 
She  is  ordering  some  new  decorations,  and  wants  us  to  give  our  at- 
tention to  the  gardens,  the  waters,  the  hot-houses,  in  short,  to  every- 
thing which  can  make  this  place  more  agreeable  ;  for  she  regards  it 
as  her  own  private  property."  . 


JOSEPHINE.  393 

courts  of  Malmaison,  and  swelled  the  lists  of  visitors. 

But  there  was  one  room  rarely  exposed  to  the 
gaze  of  the  vulgar  and  frivolous  :  that  last  occupied 
by  Bonaparte  when  there.  Everything  remained  j  ust 
as  he  had  left  it :  A  volume  of  history,  with  leaf 
turned  down  and  a  pen  beside  it ;  a  map  of  the  world, 
upon  which  he  used  to  trace  his  marches  across  the 
enemy's  country ;  his  camp-bed,  his  arms,  his  ap- 
parel hung  upon  the  wall ;  all  in  fact  that  could  re- 
mind the  forsaken  wife  of  him  who  had  been  so 
much  to  her,  and  whose  loss  she  so  bitterly  deplored. 

It  is  well  known  that  Napoleon  often  visited 
Josephine  in  her  retirement  at  Malmaison  ;  of  one 
of  these  visits  she  says  :  "  He  threw  himself  with 
transports  into  my  arms ;  it  seemed  impossible  to 
cease  gazing  upon  me,  and  his  look  was  that  of  the 
most  tender  affection.  '  My  dear  Josephine,  I  have 
always  loved  you  ;  I  love  you  still. '  '  I  endeavored 
to  efface  you  from  my  heart,'  said  I,  'and  you  again 
present  yourself.  All  my  efforts  are  useless  ;  to  love 
you,  and  to  die, — that  is  my  fate.' ' 

Madame  de  Remusat  says  of  Josephine  at  this 
time,  that  she  never  opened  a  book,  she  never  took 
up  a  pen,  and  never  touched  a  needle  ;  and  yet,  she 
never  seemed  in  the  least  bored.  This  is  very  evi- 
dently a  malicious  slander ;  for  we  have  seen  that 
Josephine  often  used  the  pen,  and  freely  wrote  to 
her  family  ;  her  reading  was  done  by  the  ladies,  her 
lectrices,  paid  for  that  purpose. 

Malmaison  itself  is  a  monument  to  the  taste  and 
genius  of  Josephine,  who  made  it  the  beautiful  re- 


394  JOSEPHINE. 

treat  that  it  was.  France  is  indebted  to  her  for  many 
new  plants,  for  many  ideas  in  landscape  and  floral 
effects,  introduced  at  this  very  place,  Malmaison. 

After  the  death  of  Josephine  the  estate  passed 
through  several  hands,  finally  becoming  the  prop- 
erty of  the  Spanish  Queen,  Christina,  who  resided 
here  some  seventeen  years,  and  who  kept  the  build- 
ings in  repair  and  preserved  the  place  somewhat  as 
it  was  in  the  time  of  its  original  owner.  In  1867, 
Napoleon  III.  secured  possession  of  Malmaison  and, 
with  the  co-operation  of  Eugenie,  refurnished  the 
rooms  with  articles  that  had  belonged  to  Josephine, 
his  grandmother.  During  the  exposition  of  that 
year  many  visitors  came  here  to  pay  their  tribute  of 
affection  to  Josephine.  But,  three  years  later,  dur- 
ing the  Prussian  invasion,  the  barbarous  soldiers 
committed  many  atrocities,  defaced  the  walls  and 
furniture,  destroyed  paintings,  and  left  the  once- 
beautiful  Malmaison  in  ruin  and  neglect. 

To-day,  though  dismantled  and  forlorn,  Malmai- 
son is  still  in  evidence :  one  may  stroll  through  its 
deserted  chambers,  be  told  the  spot  where  Josephine 
breathed  her  last ;  view  the  dining-room  where  she 
so  often  graced  the  hospitable  board,  and  be  shown 
the  place  where  occurred  the  last  parting  between 
Hortense  and  Napoleon. 

Next  to  her  birthplace,  where  her  happiest  years 
were  passed,  the  lover  of  Josephine  will  hold  Mal- 
maison, where  Josephine  found  rest  and  recreation, 
where  she  imprinted  her  image  upon  its  walls  and 
gardens  ;  where  she  sorrowed  out  her  declining  years. 


JOSEPHINE.  395 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

ELBA  AND  FONTAINEBLEAU. 

JOSEPHINE  had,  it  is  true,  accepted  her  fate,  but 
she  lived  in  the  remembrance  of  happier  days,  and 
ever  cherished  the  objects  of  her  tenderness  and  her 
regrets.  She  desired  to  see  the  King  of  Rome,  and 
at  last,  to  gratify  her,  Napoleon  arranged  an  inter- 
view at  Bagatelle  in  the  Bois  de  Bologne.  At  sight 
of  him  she  could  not  restrain  her  tears,  and  embraced 
him  with  all  the  ardor  of  a  mother  long  denied  ac- 
cess to  her  offspring.  "Ah,  my  dear  child,"  she 
murmured,  while  raining  kisses  upon  his  face, 
"  thou  wilt  some  time  know,  perhaps,  all  thou  hast 
cost  me." 

The  Emperor  hastened  to  end  this  affecting  scene, 
which  was  a  trial  to  his  patience,  and  took  the  little 
king  away.  This  was  their  last  interview  ;  he 
soon  departed  op  the  Russian  campaign  ;  already 
were  in  motion  the  events  that  preceded  his  last 
fling  at  fate,  that  ended  in  the  final  catastrophe. 

We  will  not  recount  the  horrors  of  the  Russian 
campaign  ;  nor  the  terrible  retreat,  which  began  at 
the  ruins  of  burning  Moscow,  and  finally  ended  be- 
fore the  walls  of  Paris,  soon  to  be  in  the  possession 
of  the  enemy.  This  account  belongs  to  the  history 


396  JOSEPHINE. 

of  Napoleon  ;  but  incidentally  Josephine  is  involved 
in  the  final  overthrow, — in  the  disasters  that  over- 
took her  country,  which  crushed  the  man  to  whom 
she  was  united  till  death,  and  in  the  revolution  that 
hurled  him  from  the  supreme  power ;  for  these 
hastened  the  close  of  her  own  life. 

We  know  the  honorable  part  taken  by  her  son, 
the  ever-faithful  Eugene,  in  the  last  retreat  :  that 
he  bravely  performed  his  duty,  and  in  the  face  of 
overwhelming  obstacles,  extricated  the  remnant  of 
his  army  and  brought  it  safe  to  Italy  ;  that  he  re- 
covered, and  first  took  the  field,  at  Bonaparte's  call 
to  arms  ;  that  he  won  an  important  victory  over  the 
Austrians,  and  was  held  by  Napoleon  worthy  to 
succeed  him  as  his  heir. 

One  of  the  last  letters  written  by  Josephine  was 
to  her  son,  bidding  him  hasten  to  rejoin  Napoleon. 

Bonaparte,  in  the  month  of  February,  1814,  seeing 
France  invested  on  every  side,  at  first  resolved  to 
call  to  his  aid  Eugene  and  his  army.  He  wrote  to 
this  effect  to  Josephine,  who  at  once  sent  to  her  son 
a  patriotic  appeal  for  his  assistance  :  .  .  . 

MALMAISON,  9th  Feburary,  1814. 

"  Do  not  lose  an  instant,  my  dear  Eugene,  what- 
ever may  be  the  obstacles,  to  comply  with  the 
Emperor's  orders.  He  has  written  me  on  this 
subject.  .  .  .  France  above  all,  France  has  need  of 
all  her  children.  .  .  .  Come,  then,  my  dear  son, 
hasten,  never  could  thy  zeal  so  well  serve  the 
Emperor  as  now.  Every  moment  is  precious.  .  .  . 


JOSEPHINE.  397 

"  Adieu,  my  dear  Eugene,  I  have  only  time  to  em- 
brace thee  and  to  repeat :  come  as  quickly  as 
possible.  * 

"  JOSEPHINE." 

But  the  repeated  successes  of  both  Eugene  and 
Bonaparte  caused  the  latter  to  send  a  counter-order, 
by  the  hands  of  Eugene's  aide-de-camp,  the  Count 
de  Tascher,  who  had  come  to  announce  the  victory 
of  the  Mincio.  Eugene  was  directed  to  defend  the 
soil  of  Italy,  foot  by  foot,  to  retire,  only  when  com- 
pelled, beyond  the  Alps,  and  to  retain  his  title  as 
long  as  possible  to  the  throne  of  Italy. 

Bonaparte  had  proposed  at  the  council  of  Chatillon 
to  renounce  the  crown  of  Italy  in  favor  of  his 
designated  heir,  the  Prince  Eugene  Napoleon,  and 
to  his  descendants  in  perpetuity. 

The  struggle  again  began  between  the  armies  of 
all  Europe  united  against  the  single  army  of  France, 
each  day  rendered  more  feeble  by  its  very  successes. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  prodigies  of  valor  per- 
formed by  the  French  under  the  direction  of  the 
great  captain,  whose  clairvoyant  genius  recalled  the 
best  days  of  the  Italian  campaign,  the  allied  troops 
continued  to  advance  upon  Paris.  The  25th  of 
March,  in  fact,  the  Emperor  of  Austria  announced 
his  manifesto,  in  which  he  declared  to  the  French 
that  the  sovereignty  of  him  who  had  espoused  his 
own  daughter  was  inimical  to  the  peace  of  Europe 
and  incompatible  with  the  best  interests  of  France. 

The  Empress  Josephine  had  decided  not  to  leave 


398  JOSEPHINE. 

Malmaison  until  the  last  moment,  for  there  she  was 
in  direct  communication  with  Paris,  where  her 
daughter  and  many  friends  resided,  and  whence  she 
could  derive  the  latest  intelligence  from  the  Emperor, 
concerning  whose  movements  she  manifested  the 
liveliest  anxiety. 

We  have,  unfortunately,  no  letters  of  this  critical 
period  that  will  throw  light  upon  the  sentiments  of 
Napoleon  and  Josephine  ;  their  correspondence  was 
doubtless  intermitted  by  the  pressure  of  affairs.  As 
for  Queen  Hortense,  she  was  continually  passing 
between  Paris  and  Malmaison,  carrying  comfort 
and  cheer  to  her  anxious  mother,  keeping  in  touch 
with  the  court  at  the  Tuileries,  gleaning  scant  news 
from  Marie  Louise,  who  had  been  appointed  regent 
during  the  absence  of  Bonaparte,  and  from  his 
brother  Joseph  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  govern- 
ment. 

By  the  last  of  March  the  allied  army  was  close 
upon  Paris,  and  the  inhabitants,  notwithstanding 
their  confidence  in  Bonaparte,  were  in  a  tumult. 
Many  believed,  with  Hortense,  that  the  Emperor 
would  appear  in  season  to  effect  their  deliverance. 
She  herself  hastened  to  the  Tuileries  to  entreat  the 
Empress-regent  not  to  leave  Paris  at  the  mercy  of 
their  foes  ;  but  too  late  ;  that  very  afternoon,  at  an 
extraordinary  council,  composed  of  the  regent,  the 
brothers  of  Napoleon  and  the  ministers  of  the 
Empire,  it  was  decided  that  the  defense  of  the  capital 
was  impracticable,  and  that  Marie  Louise,  the  young 
King  of  Rome,  and  the  heads  of  government,  should 


JOSEPHINE.  399 

retire  to  Blois.  This  was  in  conformity  to  the  orders 
of  Napoleon,  before  his  departure,  who  feared  for 
the  safety  of  his  wife  and  son,  should  they  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

As  soon  as  she  had  been  informed  of  this  decision, 
Hortense  despatched  a  courier,  at  one  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  to  warn  her  mother  to  prepare  at  once  for 
departure  for  Navarre,  where  she  would  be  less 
exposed  to  danger.  The  next  day  the  enemy  entered 
Paris,  close  upon  the  departure  of  the  royal  house- 
hold, and  almost  at  the  same  hour  that  Napoleon 
himself  arrived  at  Fontainebleau. 

Meanwhile,  Josephine  had  acted  upon  her  daugh- 
ter's advice  and  had  gained  in  safety  the  retreat  of 
Navarre,  though  only  after  a  fright  at  the  prospect 
of  capture  by  the  Cossacks,  which  must  have  brought 
to  mind  her  perils  during  the  first  campaign  in 
Italy. 

She  remained  several  days  a  prey  to  the  most 
agonizing  suspense  respecting  the  fate  of  her 
daughter,  her  son,  and  of  Napoleon. 

France  was  invaded,  humiliated  ;  the  enemy  was 
in  possession  of  the  capital  ;  more  than  this  she 
knew  not  ;  two  days  she  rested  in  this  cruel  state  of 
uncertainty.  But  on  the  second  of  April,  she  was 
rejoiced  at  the  arrival  of  her  daughter  and  her  two 
children,  who  had  twice  narrowly  escaped  capture 
by  the  enemy,  while  on  the  road  to  Navarre.  From 
Hortense  she  learned  that  her  worst  fears  were 
realized,  as  to  the  capture  of  Paris  ;  but  from  her 
she  received  no  tidings  of  Napoleon.  Three  days 


400  JOSEPHINE. 

passed  ;  all  the  routes  leading  from  Paris,  from 
Fontainebleau,  and  from  Blois,  were  in  possession  of 
the  allies,  and  all  information  intercepted.  But  at 
last,  the  fourth  night,  a  courier  was  announced 
from  Fontainebleau.  Josephine  was  apprised  of  his 
arrival,  and  her  heart  leaped  with  joy  at  the  prospect 
of  news  from  the  Emperor. 

"He  is  alive,  then?  Tell  me!"  she  demanded 
of  the  messenger.  She  threw  a  shawl  over  her 
shoulders  and  admitted  him  at  once  into  her  chamber, 
the  tears  raining  over  her  face  as  the  courier  detailed 
all  the  sad  occurrences  of  the  past  few  days  :  of  the 
projected  abdication,  of  the  decree  of  banishment  to 
Elba. 

"Ah,"  she  sighed;  "unhappy  Napoleon;  exiled 
to  Elba  !  If  it  were  not  for  his  wife,  I  should  demand 
to  go  with  him." 

She  envied  Marie  Louise  the  privilege  she  had  of 
sharing  his  exile  ;  not  doubting  her  desire  to  do  so, 
and  unable  to  believe  in  the  perfidy  of  one  who  had 
borne  him  an  heir,  and  who  later  dishonored  her 
name  and  brought  reproach  upon  her  royal  spouse. 

The  grief  of  Hortense  was  equally  profound  ;  it 
was  not  alone  a  crown  she  had  lost,  a  high  fortune 
cast  down  ;  but  she  lamented  the  misfortunes  of 
one  who  had  called  her  daughter,  whose  regard  for 
her  had  ever  been  delicate  and  tender.  Hers  was  a 
most  unfortunate  position  :  isolated  as  she  was, 
without  a  place  for  retreat  ;  sharing  the  odium  now 
attached  to  the  name  of  Bonaparte,  without  sharing 
the  affections  of  any  of  the  family.  Her  mother's 


JOSEPHINE,  BY  PRUD'HON. 


JOSEPHINE.  401 

position  was,  if  anything,  more  enviable,  for  the 
divorce  had  rendered  her  free,  had  detached  her  from 
the  family  which  was  now  so  hateful  to  the 
returning  Bourbons,  and  she  could  still  reside  in 
France. 

"I  have  no  fortune  but  my  diamonds,"  she  said 
to  a  lady  of  her  mother's  court  ;  "I  will  sell  them 
and  with  the  proceeds  I  will  go  to  Martinique,  to 
the  old  plantation  belonging  to  my  family,  which 
I  visited  in  my  youth  and  where  I  passed  many 
happy  days.  There  I  will  rear  my  children  and  be 
content." 

That  she  did  not  accomplish  her  intention  is  well 
known  ;  and  of  the  career  of  her  youngest  son,  who 
become  the  Napoleon  III.  of  later  times,  history 
has  informed  us. 

A  lady  of  the  court  was  despatched  to  Paris  for 
intelligence  of  the  Emperor  and  Eugene ;  but  for 
several  days  the  forsaken  ones  at  Navarre  were  in 
ignorance  of  passing  events.  On  the  thirteenth  of 
April  Josephine  was  advised  of  the  conclusion  of 
the  treaty,  signed  two  days  previously  at  Fontaine- 
bleau,  in  which  the  Emperor  renounced  all  claim  to 
the  throne  of  France  and  Italy,  and  adopted  Elba 
for  his  future  sovereignty. 

To  the  last,  he  had  been  thoughtful  of  those  whose 
elevation  was  due  to  him,  who  would  be  affected  by 
his  downfall,  stipulating  that  all  their  rights  and 
privileges  should  be  preserved,  and  their  pensions 
paid. 

Josephine    and  her    family  were    especially  re- 
26 


402  JOSEPHINE. 

membered,  her  revenue  fixed  at  a  million  of  francs  ; 
her  son  and  daughter  secured  in  a  position  compat- 
ible to  their  former  station. 

These  stipulations  show  clearly  that  he  still 
regarded  her  with  tenderness  ;  but  he  departed  from 
Fontainebleau,  on  the  twenty-first  of  April,  without 
one  word  of  farewell  for  her  whose  heart  was 
slowly  breaking  from  love  of  him,  at  the  castle  of 
Navarre. 

Whilst  the  Emperor  was  directing  his  way  to  his 
place  of  exile,  the  last  week  in  April,  Josephine, 
yielding  to  the  solicitations  of  her  friends,  returned 
toMalmaison.  There  she  was  rejoined  by  Queen 
Hortense,  who  had  at  first  intended  to  offer  her 
services  to  Marie  Louise  ;  but  being  coldly  received, 
had  returned  to  her  place  of  duty  by  her  mother's 
side.  She  found  a  distinguished  visitor  at  Malmai- 
son,  in  the  person  of  the  Emperor  Alexander,  who, 
as  soon  as  he  had  been  apprised  of  Josephine's  return, 
had  hastened  to  assiire  her  of  his  respect,  and  to 
extend  to  her  and  her  children  his  protection  and 
sympathy. 

Says  the  Duchess  d'Abrantes  : — "  After  Bona- 
parte's abdication  ...  I  went  to  Malmaison  the 
day  after  receiving  his  letter  from  Fontainebleau. 
.  .  .  My  name  was  no  sooner  mentioned  to  the 
Empress  than  she  desired  I  should  be  admitted. 
.  .  .  She  was  still  in  bed,  and  stretching  out  her 
arms  as  soon  as  she  saw  me  she  burst  into  tears  and 
exclaimed  :  '  Alas,  Madame  Junot !  Madame  Junot ! ' 
I  was  deeply  affected.  I  knew  how  sincerely  she 


JOSEPHINE.  403 

was  attached  to  the  Emperor ;  and  at  this  moment 
every  reproach  she  had  to  make  was  cast  into  the 
shade  by  the  heavy  misfortune  which  oppressed 
him.  .  .  .  When  I  told  her  of  my  having  received 
a  letter  from  Fontainebleau,  she  said  to  me  with 
an  eagerness  she  had  never  before  displayed,  '  Oh, 
I  beseech  you,  do  read  me  that  letter ;  read  the 
ivhole  of  it ;  I  desire  to  know  everything.'  The 
contents  were  very  painful  to  Josephine's  heart,  as 
many  passages  related  to  the  King  of  Rome  and  to 
Marie  Louise.  '  What  think  you  of  that  woman  ? ' 
demanded  the  Empress,  looking  at  me  with  a  re- 
markable expression  of  countenance.  '  I,  Madame  ? 
What  I  have  always  thought, — that  such  a  woman 
should  never  have  crossed  the  frontiers  of  France. 
I  say  so  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart.'  'Indeed,' 
said  Josephine,  fixing  on  me  her  eyes  bathed  in 
tears,  but  smiling  at  the  idea  that  I  shared  her 
opinion.  'Madame  Junot,'  said  the  Empress,  at 
length,  '  I  have  a  great  mind  to  write 'to  Napoleon. 
Would  you  know  the  reason  ?  I  wish  he  would 
permit  my  accompanying  him  to  the  island  of  Elba, 
if  Marie  Louise  should  keep  away.  Do  you  think 
she  will  follow  him  ? ' 

"  'Quite  the  contrary  ;  she  is  incapable  of  doing 
so.' 

"  I  then  observed  to  her  that  the  Emperor's  consent 
that  she  should  go  to  the  island  of  Elba  was  more 
than  doubtful.  She  seemed  astonished.  'Why 
should  he  refuse  it  ? '  '  Because  his  sisters  will 
assuredly  go  there,  as  well  as  Madame  Mere.  Let 


404  JOSEPHINE. 

your  Majesty  recollect  all  you  have  suffered  when 
seated  on  the  throne  of  France,  in  the  imperial 
palace  of  the  Tuileries,  when  strong  in  the  title  of 
the  Emperor's  consort.  If,  when  you  were  sover- 
eign, Madame,  the  Emperor's  sisters  could  disturb 
your  repose,  what  might  they  not  do  at  the  present 
day?' 

' '  The  Empress  fell  into  a  deep  meditation,  a  cir- 
cumstance of  rare  occurrence.  '  I  think  you  are 
right,'  she  said  at  last;  'I  think  you  are  right.' 
She  remained  for  some  time  with  her  head  resting 
upon  her  hand." 

Viewing  them  in  the  relation  of  wife  and  daughter 
of  a  vanquished  sovereign,  the  Emperor  Alexander 
assured  Hortense  and  Josephine  of  every  attention, 
and  with  delicate  tact  endeavored  to  mitigate  the 
unpleasant  features  of  their  situation. 

Meanwhile,  the  Empress  was  gladdened  by  the 
arrival  of  Eugene,  from  whom  she  had  been  a  long 
time  separated,  and  of  whom  she  had  heard  nothing 
for  many  days.  She  was  now  happy  and  content, 
in  the  companionship  of  both  her  children,  whom 
she  entreated  not  to  leave  her,  unless  they  would  be 
instrumental  in  shortening  her  life.  They  promised 
to  remain  with  her  to  the  last,  and  her  only  anxiety 
now  was  for  the  Emperor.  Eugene  had  held  out 
to  the  very  end,  only  surrendering  his  command 
when  he  could  do  so  with  honor,  and  after  stipulat- 
ing for  the  safety  of  his  officers  and  soldiers.  His 
conduct  had  won  universal  approbation,  and  no  one 
thought  of  hindering  his  journey  to  France,  for  the 


JOSEPHINE.  405 

honorable  purpose  of  comforting  his  mother  and 
sister  in  their  unhappy  state. 

The  Emperor  Alexander  went  to  Malmaison  for 
the  express  purpose  of  renewing  to  him  the  offers  of 
assistance  he  had  made  to  Josephine  and  Hortense. 
The  Duke  of  Orleans,  as  the  old  friend  of  his  father, 
whom  Eugene  so  strongly  resembled,  was  also  well 
disposed  towards  him  ;  but,  as  the  adopted  son  of 
Napoleon,  he  was  to  share  in  the  downfall  of  his 
chief.  Notwithstanding  the  active  and  well-meant 
efforts  of  Alexander,  who  would  have  restored  Eu- 
gene to  his  former  position,  in  accordance  with  the 
wishes  of  Napoleon,  as  expressed  in  his  abdication 
and  at  Chatillon,  the  treaty  of  Fontainebleau  was 
disregarded. 

Deprived  of  the  prospect  of  her  revenue,  and  un- 
der the  impression  that  she  was  soon  to  be  banished 
from  France,  yet  Josephine  forgot  her  own  troubles 
in  her  anxiety  for  the  fate  of  her  children.  To 
secure  their  welfare,  she  implored  the  Emperor  of 
Russia  to  exert  himself  in  their  behalf,  as  the  great- 
est favor  he  could  bestow  upon  an  abandoned  wife 
and  tender  mother. 

Of  her  children,  and  of  the  unhappy  fate  of  him 
who  had  raised  them  all  to  the  supremest  height, 
and  who  would  have  saved  them  from  participation 
in  his  fall,  had  it  been  possible,  she  spoke  unceas- 
ingly. 

On  the  fifteenth  of  May,  the  Empress  went  to 
pass  a  few  days  at  the  chateau  of  Saint-Leu,  with 
Hortense.  The  Emperor  Alexander  also  visited 


406  JOSEPHINE. 

there  at  the  same  time,  and  they  went  to  ride  in 
the  woods  of  Montmorency.  On  her  return  to  Mal- 
maison,  Josephine  felt  so  fatigued  that  she  retired 
to  her  apartment,  leaving  her  daughter  to  entertain 
their  guests. 

When  she  had  regained  the  seclusion  of  her 
chamber,  Josephine  threw  herself  into  a  reclining 
chair,  in  a  state  of  painful  melancholy.  Her  reader, 
Mile.  Cochelet,  had  accompanied  her,  and  reports  in 
her  memoirs  the  conversation  that  then  ensued. 
After  a  short  silence  the  Empress  said  sadly,  "  Ma- 
demoiselle Cochelet,  I  cannot  throw  off  this  distress- 
ing melancholy  which  has  seized  upon  me  ;  I  have 
made  every  effort  to  conceal  it  from  my  children, 
but  I  only  suffer  the  more.  I  begin  to  lose  all 
hope.  The  Emperor  of  Russia  seems  to  be  filled 
with  regard  and  affection  for  us,  but  of  what  good 
are  his  promises  to  my  son,  my  daughter,  and  her 
children  ? 

"Is  he  not  in  a  position  to  do  something  for 
them  ?  Do  you  know  what  will  happen  when  he 
shall  have  departed  ?  The  Bourbons  will  not  fulfill 
their  promises  ;  I  shall  see  my  children  at  their 
mercy,  unhappy ;  and  I  cannot  endure  this  thought. 
...  I  already  suffer  enough  on  account  of  Napo- 
leon,  now  stripped  of  all  his  greatness,  exiled  to  a 
distant  isle,  abandoned  by  all  his  friends  ;  must  I 
now  see  my  children  fugitives,  at  the  sport  of 
evil  fortune  ?  .  .  .  I  feel  that  this  doubt  will  kill 
me." 

The  lectrice  tried  to  comfort  her  by  pointing  out 


JOSEPHINE.  407 

with  what  assiduity  the  Emperor  of  Russia  had  at- 
tended upon  her  and  the  zeal  he  had  manifested  in 
her  children's  cause  ;  but  Josephine  was  not  to  be 
deceived  ;  she  felt  assured  of  the  enmity  of  the 
Bourbons,  and  above  all  of  the  house  of  Austria. 


408  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

DEATH  OF  JOSEPHINE. 

IT  is  true,  as  Josephine  declared,  that  the  Bour- 
bons were  indebted  to  the  first  wife  of  Napoleon  for 
many  and  great  favors,  some  of  them  even  for  their 
lives  ;  yet  none  of  them  came  near  her  in  her  honor- 
able exile,  or  manifested  an  interest  in  her  fate. 
She  was,  however,  "  the  only  member  of  the  imperial 
family  whose  titles  and  honors  were  preserved  ;  "  a 
guard  of  honor  watched  around  her  retreat,  and  she 
was  surrounded  by  the  most  illustrious  personages 
of  Europe.  "A  few  days  after  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander's visit  to  Marie  Louise,"  says  Bourrienne, 
"  he  paid  his  respects  to  Bonaparte's  other  wife, 
Josephine.  In  this  breaking  up  of  empires  and  king- 
doms the  unfortunate  Josephine,  who  had  suffered 
agonies  on  account  of  the  husband  who  had  aban- 
doned her,  was  not  forgotten.  One  of  the  first 
things  the  Emperor  of  Russia  did  on  arriving  at 
Paris,  was  to  despatch  a  guard  for  the  protection  of 
Malmaison.  .  .  .  The  allied  sovereigns  treated  her 
with  delicacy  and  consideration.  As  soon  as  Alex- 
ander knew  that  Josephine  had  returned  to  Mal- 
maison he  hastened  to  pay  her  a  visit.  It  is  not  pos- 


JOSEPHINE.  409 

sible  to  be  more  amiable  than  he  was  to  her.  When, 
in  the  course  of  conversation,  he  spoke  of  the 
occupation  of  Paris  by  the  allied  armies,  and  of  the 
position  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  it  was  always  in 
perfectly  measured  language  ;  he  never  forgot  for  an 
instant  that  he  was  speaking  to  the  wife  of  a  van- 
quished enemy. 

''  On  her  side,  the  Empress  did  not  conceal  the  ten- 
der sentiments,  the  lively  affection,  she  still  felt 
for  Napoleon.  .  .  .  Alexander  certainly  had  some- 
thing elevated  and  magnanimous  in  his  character, 
which  would  not  permit  him  to  say  a  single  word 
capable  of  insulting  misfortune  ;  the  Empress  had 
only  one  prayer  to  make  to  him,  and  that  was  for 

her  children This  visit  was  soon  followed 

by  another,  from  the  other  allied  princes.  The  King 
of  Prussia  came  frequently,  to  pay  his  court  to  Jo- 
sephine ;  he  even  dined  with  her  several  times  at 
Malmaison  ;  but  the  Emperor  Alexander  came  much 
more  frequently.  .  .  .  Queen  Hortense  was  always 
with  her  mother  when  she  received  the  sovereigns, 
and  assisted  her  in  doing  the  honors  of  the  house. 
The  illustrious  strangers  exceedingly  admired  Mal- 
maison, which  seemed  to  them  a  charming  residence, 
and  were  particularly  struck  with  its  fine  gardens 
and  conservatories.  .  .  . 

"  From  this  time,  however,  Josephine's  health  visi- 
bly declined,  and  she  did  not  live  to  see  Napoleon's 
return  from  Elba.  She  often  said  to  her  attendants  : 
'  I  do  not  know  what  is  the  matter  with  me,  but  at 
times  I  have  fits  of  melancholy  enough  to  kill 


410  JOSEPHINE. 

me.'  ...  But,  on  the  very  brink  of  the  grave,  she 
retained  all  her  amiability,  all  her  love  of  dress, 
and  the  graces  and  resources  of  a  drawing-room 
society." 

We  cannot  overlook  two  letters  of  this  period, 
attributed  to  Napoleon  and  Josephine,  and  which,  if 
genuine,  give  us  a  glimpse  into  the  hearts  of  their 
illustrious  writers  :  The  first,  from  Napoleon.  .  .  . 

"  FONTAIXEBLEAU,  16th  April,  1814. 

"  DEAR  JOSEPHINE, — I  wrote  to  you  on  the  eighth 
of  this  month,  but  perhaps  you  have  not  received  my 
letter,  as  hostilities  still  continue,  and  it  may  have 
been  intercepted.  At  present,  communication  must 
be  re-established. 

"  I  have  formed  my  resolution  :  I  will  not  repeat 
what  I  said  to  you  :  then  I  lamented  my  situation, 
now  I  congratulate  myself  thereon.  ...  I  am  no\v 
free  from  an  enormous  weight.  My  fall  was  great, 
but  at  least  it  is  useful,  as  men  say.  In  my  retreat  I 
shall  substitute  the  pen  for  the  sword.  ...  I  have 
heaped  benefits  upon  millions  of  wretches.  What 
have  they  done  in  the  end  for  me  ?  They  have  all 
betrayed  me.  Yes,  all.  I  except  from  this  number 
the  good  Eugene,  so  worthy  of  you  and  of  me. 
Adieu,  my  dear  Josephine ;  be  resigned,  as  I  am, 
and  ever  remember  him  who  never  forgot,  and 
never  will  forget  you.  Farewell,  Josephine. 

"  P.  S. — I  expect  to  hear  from  you  at  Elba  ;  I  am 
not  very  well. 

"  NAPOLEON." 


JOSEPHINE.  411 

To  which  Josephine  replied,  in  this,  her  last  com- 
munication to  her  exiled  friend  and  former  hus- 
band : 

"SlRE, — Now  only  can  I  calculate  the  whole  ex- 
tent of  the  misfortune  of  having  beheld  my  union 
with  you  dissolved  by  law  ;  now  indeed  do  I  lament 
being  no  more  than  your  friend,  who  can  but 
mourn  over  a  misfortune  great  as  it  is  unex- 
pected. ...  I  have  been  on  the  point  of  quit- 
ting France  to  follow  your  footsteps,  and  to 
consecrate  to  you  the  remainder  of  an  existence 
which  you  so  long  embellished.  A  single  motive 
restrained  me,  and  that  you  may  divine.  If  I  learn 
that,  contrary  to  all  appearances,  I  am  the  only  one 
who  will  fulfill  her  duty,  nothing  shall  restrain  me, 
and  I  will  go  to  the  only  place  where  henceforth 
there  can  be  happiness  for  me,  since  I  shall  be  able 
to  console  you  when  you  are  there  isolated  and  un- 
fortunate. 

"  Say  but  the  word,  and  I  depart.  Adieu,  sire  ; 
whatever  I  would  add  would  still  be  too  little  ;  it  is 
no  longer  by  words  that  my  sentiments  for  you  are 
to  be  proved, — and  for  actions  your  consent  is  nec- 
essary. 

"  JOSEPHINE." 

Although  plunged  into  the  profoundest  melan- 
choly, Josephine,  in  order  to  reassure  her  son  and 
daughter,  assumed  a  calmness  that  was  foreign  to 
her  feelings.  ,  But  she  could  not  conceal  from  them, 


412  JOSEPHINE. 

from  the  searching  eyes  of  love,  her  deep  distress 
and  increasing  grief.  A  week  passed  thus  ;  though 
amiable  and  apparently  cheerful  in  the  company  of 
her  little  court,  now  so  sadly  diminished,  when  alone 
she  abandoned  herself  to  tears  and  sad  reflection. 
In  truth,  she  was  hurt  to  the  heart ;  her  grief  had 
undermined  her  health  ;  the  sleepless  nights  of  agony 
had  inflamed  her  blood.  She  uttered  no  complaint, 
she  even  tried  to  maintain  her  old  air  of  cheerful 
gayety,  but  her  children  and  her  ladies  were  op- 
pressed by  painful  presentiments. 

On  Monday,  the  twenty-third  of  May,  the  King 
of  Prussia  and  his  two  sons  came  to  dine  with  her, 
and  Josephine,  though  for  days  she  had  been  visibly 
suffering,  received  them  with  her  old-time  grace, 
and  so  successfully  maintained  the  character  of 
agreeable  hostess,  that  they  departed  in  the  belief 
that  she  was  fully  recovered.  The  next  day  she 
was  obliged  to  receive  the  Eussian  Grand  Dukes, 
who  afterwards  went  driving  with  Eugene,  while 
Hortense  remained  at  home  with  her  mother.  As 
the  Empress  seemed  to  be  suffering  from  a  slight 
cold,  her  daughter  urged  her  to  retire  to  her  room  ; 
but  she  declined,  and  went  down  to  dinner.  In  the 
evening,  however,  after  several  attempts  to  rally 
from  the  fatigues  of  the  day,  she  retired  to  a  near 
apartment,  leaving  to  Hortense  the  honors  of  hostess 
during  the  stay  of  the  Russian  princes.  The  next 
morning,  when  her  reader  went  to  her  room  for  the 
orders  of  the  day,  she  found  the  Empress  in  tears, 
and  holding  in  her  hand  a  paper,  which  she  held 


JOSEPHINE.  413 

out  to  her,  demanding  excitedly  if  her  daughter  had 
seen  it.  "If  she  has  not,"  she  said,  "then  take 
good  care  she  does  not  see  it.  Read  this  terrible 
article,  which  some  one  has  written,  about  her  poor, 
dead  child.  My  God  !  Is  it  possible  ?  Yes,  they 
have  dared  to  ravish  the  dead,  to  descend  even  to 
the  tomb.  It  is  as  though  the  times  of  the  Revolu- 
tion had  returned.  Ah  me,  what  infamy  !  " 

This  anonymous  attack  upon  the  honor  of  her 
cherished  child  increased  her  melancholy,  and 
plunged  her  into  a  stupor  of  grief.  She  became 
rapidly  worse,  and  on  the  morrow,  as  Hortense 
entered  her  chamber  at  an  early  hour,  she  found  her 
breathing  with  difficulty.  Greatly  alarmed,  she 
called  the  court  physician,  who  agreed  with  her  that 
her  mother  was  suffering  from  more  than  a  common 
cold,  and  assented  to  a  consultation.  This  Jose- 
phine opposed,  for  fear  of  causing  pain  to  the 
doctor  in  attendance  ;  but,  in  order  to  allay  her 
children's  fears,  promised  to  keep  her  bed  for  the  day. 

Eugene  was  then  suffering  from  fever,  and 
obliged  to  remain  in  his  room ;  but  this  fact 
Hortense  strove  to  keep  from  her  mother,  and  made 
every  preparation  for  attending  both  patients, 
though  herself  fatigued. 

A  relapse  occurred  on  the  twenty-seventh,  of  so 
alarming  a  nature  that  Hortense  decided  to  send  to 
Paris  for  assistance,  when  she  was  informed  of  the 
arrival  of  the  first  physician  of  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander's household,  with  inquiries  from  his  royal 
master  and  the  information  that  he  himself  was  to 


414  JOSEPHINE. 

dine  with  them  at  Malmaison,  on  the  morrow. 
Josephine  at  once  returned  her  thanks  and  began  to 
occupy  herself  with  preparations  for  entertaining 
her  august  visitor,  whom  she  proposed  to  receive  in 
person.*  At  the  solicitation  of  Hortense,  however, 
the  Russian  physician  was  permitted  to  have  an 
interview  with  her  mother,  and  he  did  not  conceal 
from  the  daughter  that  the  patient's  condition  was 
very  serious  and  demanded  immediate  and  energetic 
measures. 

A  consultation  was  held,  it  was  declared  that  the 
Empress  was  suffering  from  a  dangerous  attack  of 
quinsy  ;  but,  although,  the  physicians  feared  it 
was  too  late  for  remedies  to  be  of  avail,  they  con- 
cealed their  worst  fears  from  the  watchers,  and 
awaited  in  anxiety  the  result.  Queen  Hortense 
scarcely  left  her  mother's  side,  and  then  only  to 
hasten  to  Eugene,  whose  fever  had  increased  to  the 
point  of  creating  great  anxiety  in  his  behalf.  The 
Empress,  noticing  her  son's  continued  absence,  was 
finally  informed  of  his  illness,  and  begged  her 
daughter  to  bestow  her  time  upon  her  brother,  or  at 
least  to  seek  the  rest  she  so  much  needed. 

During  the  night,  Josephine  sank  perceptibly,  and 
the  Queen  decided  to  dispatch  a  messenger  to  Alex- 


*  "  After  the  divorce,  at  Malmaison,  she  (Josephine)  had  the  same 
luxurious  tastes,  and  dressed  with  as  much  care,  even  when  she  saw 
no  one.  On  the  day  of  her  death,  she  insisted  on  being  dressed  in  a 
very  elegant  robe  de  chambre,  because  she  thought  that  the  Emperor 
of  Russia  might  come  to  see  her.  .  .  .  She  died  covered  with  ribbons 
and  pale  rose  satin." — Mme.  de  Remusat. 


JOSEPHINE.  415 

ander,  requesting  him  to  postpone  his  visit  ;  but 
before  the  courier  could  reach  Paris,  his  Majesty 
arrived  at  Malmaison,  several  hours  in  advance  of 
the  hour  appointed,  having  been  anxious  to  learn  of 
the  exact  condition  of  the  Empress.  Hortense  in- 
formed him  of  her  fears,  and  then  had  him  con- 
ducted to  her  brother's  chamber,  where  he  passed 
the  day,  being  rejoined  by  the  Queen  at  dinner. 
After  the  ceremony  was  over  she  excused  herself 
and  again  hastened  to  her  mother's  bedside  ;  but  the 
Emperor  remained  with  Eugene  until  assured  that 
Josephine  was  resting  easily,  and  took  his  departure 
late  in  the  afternoon.  His  presence  had  been  con- 
cealed from  Josephine,  who,  it  was  feared,  would 
have  wished  to  rise  to  receive  him,  and  thereby 
suffer  a  relapse.  Though  oppressed  by  the  fatigue 
of  continued  watching,  Hortense  wished  to  pass  the 
night  with  her  mother,  who  insisted  that  she  should 
retire  to  her  own  room  to  rest.  One  of  the  ladies 
in  waiting,  the  Duchess  d'Arberg,  joined  in  her  en- 
treaties, promising  to  inform  her  if  she  should  be 
be  needed,  and  the  Queen  retired,  though  at  a  late 
hour,  and  only  after  the  assurance  that  she  should 
be  notified  of  the  slightest  alarming  symptom.  She 
went  to  her  room,  but  not  to  sleep,  several  times 
rising  during  the  night  and  seeking  the  bedside  of 
the  patient  sufferer.  Josephine  uttered  no  com- 
plaints and  did  not  appear  to  suffer,  except  from  an 
increased  difficulty  of  breathing  ;  but  she  was  wake- 
ful, and  her  mind  seemed  to  be  wandering  amid  the 
scenes  of  the  recent  past.  She  frequently  repeated 


416  JOSEPHINE. 

in  a  low  tone,  as  if  communing  with  herself :  "  Bona- 
parte .  .  .  Elba  .  .  .  Marie  Louise."  Alarmed 
at  this  incoherence,  Hortense  sought  her  brother, 
who,  somewhat  recovered  from  his  fever,  accom- 
panied her  to  the  Empres's  chamber.  Their  mother 
was  still  conscious  ;  as  her  children  approached  the 
bedside  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  she  endeavored 
to  stretch  forth  her  arms  to  embrace  them.  But 
those  loving  arms,  so  often  their  refuge  in  the  past, 
which  had  ever  encircled  them,  protecting  them 
from  the  attacks  of  hate  and  malice,  were  now 
powerless  to  bestow  the  last,  farewell  embrace.  It 
was  with  difficulty  Josephine  could  speak  to  them, 
and  her  features  had  so  changed,  in  the  short  time 
that  had  elapsed  since  they  last  saw  her,  that  they 
were  forced  to  recognize  the  near  approach  of  final 
dissolution.  Oppressed  by  her  emotions,  Hortense 
was  obliged  to  retire  from  the  chamber,  while 
Eugene,  summoning  all  his  courage,  gathered  his 
mother  tenderly  in  his  arms,  pressing  her  head  to 
his  breast.  There  she  lay,  peacefully,  looking  the 
love  she  could  not  adequately  express  in  words, 
while  her  son  scanned  the  faces  of  the  physicians, 
to  learn  if  this  were,  indeed,  the  last  hour  of 
Josephine's  fitful  existence.  They  could  give  him 
no  hope,  and  intimated  that  it  were  well,  if  she  so 
desired,  that  she  should  be  provided  with  the  last 
sacraments.  The  Queen's  chaplain  was  summoned, 
and,  leaving  him  to  prepare  their  mother  for  the 
viaticum,  the  son  and  daughter  retired  to  the 
chapel,  where  they  knelt  in  prayer.  Soon  they  re- 


JOSEPHINE.  417 

turned  to  the  chamber  of  death.  As  they  entered, 
Josephine  vainly  attempted  to  embrace  them,  and 
made  a  futile  effort  to  speak.  Her  features  had 
undergone  a  mortal  change  ;  it  was  but  too  evident 
that  her  last  hour  had  arrived,  and  Hortense,  over- 
come by  this  conviction,  fainted,  and  was  borne 
from  the  chamber.  Kneeling  at  his  mother's  side, 
Eugene  drew  her  within  his  embrace,  where,  a  few 
minutes  later,  with  a  last  look  of  love  in  her  glazing 
eyes,  she  expired.* 

Imprinting  a  kiss  upon  the  pallid  lips,  Eugene 
gently  released  the  inanimate  form,  and  with  trem- 
bling steps  sought  his  sister,  to  inform  her  of  their 
misfortune,  and  to  mingle  his  tears  with  hers.  The 
household  of  Malmaison  was  plunged  into  mourn- 
ing, and  as  the  sad  intelligence  spread  abroad,  the 
people  in  all  places  and  of  all  degrees  lamented 
their  "good  Josephine,"  whose  hold  upon  their 
hearts  was  strong  and  deep. 

11  In  company  with  Mme.  d'Arberg,"  wrote  Mile. 
Cochelet,  "  I  remained  by  the  side  of  her  whose  life 
had  fled,  and,  thinking  to  preserve  a  souvenir  of 
the  departed,  for  those  she  had  loved  so  well,  I  cut 
off  a  portion  of  the  beautiful  tresses,  which  enframed 
the  face,  now  so  calm,  and  upon  which  rested  a 
peaceful  smile.  .  .  . 

*  The  (alleged)  last  words  of  Josephine  were  : 

"At  least,  I  shall  die  regretted  ;  I  have  always  desired  the  happi- 
ness of  France  ;  I  did  all  in  my  power  to  contribute  to  it ;  and  I  can 
say  with  truth,  to  all  of  you  now  present,  that  the  first  wife  of 
Napoleon  never  caused  a  single  tear  to  flow." 

27 


418  JOSEPHINE. 

"  It  would  be  impossible  to  depict  the  grief  of  the 
Prince  Eugene,  and  Queen  Hortense,  at  the  loss  of 
this  adorable  mother,  whose  life  had  been  one  long 
devotion  to  them  and  her  family." 

The  body  of  the  Empress  was  embalmed,  enclosed 
in  a  double  casket  of  lead  and  mahogany,  and 
exposed  upon  a  catafalque  in  the  grand  vestibule, 
where  it  was  visited  by  upwards  of  twenty  thousand 
people.  Even  gay  and  frivolous  Paris  was  visibly 
affected  by  the  sad  intelligence  of  Josephine's 
death,  where  it  inflicted  a  painful  impression  upon 
all. 

All,  sovereigns  and  foreign  princes ;  even  the 
royal  family  of  France,  sent  their  condolences  to  the 
children  of  the  late  Empress.  The  Emperor  Alex- 
ander, who  had  intended  paying  his  respects  in  per- 
son, learning  that  Eugene  could  not  attend  the 
obsequies,  on  account  of  his  illness,  sent  one  of  his 
generals  to  represent  him. 

The  last  tributes  were  offered  on  the  second  of 
June,  in  the  church  of  Rueil,  which  had  been 
restored  by  the  care  of  Josephine,  and  in  which  she 
had  expressed  a  wish  to  be  interred.  The  funeral 
cortege  issued  from  the  great  gate  of  Malmaison 
and  took  the  road  towards  Paris,  as  far  as  Rueil. 
The  two  children  of  Hortense,  one  of  whom  after- 
wards ascended  the  throne  of  France  as  Napoleon 
III.,  were  the  chief  mourners.  The  honorary  pall- 
bearers were  :  the  Grand  Duke  of  Baden,  husband 
of  the  Princess  Stephanie  ;  the  Marquis  de  Beau- 
harnais,  brother-in-law  to  Josephine ;  the  Count 


JOSEPHINE.  419 

Tascher,  ex-senator,  and  the  father  of  the  Princess 
of  Baden,  the  Count  de  Beauharnais. 

Following  them,  the  officials  and  ladies  of  the 
imperial  household,  attaches  of  Prince  Eugene,  and 
of  Queen  Hortense,  and  many  personages  of  .dis- 
tinction from  the  capital,  come  to  testify  their 
respect  to  one  who  had  won  the  hearts  of  all. 

The  most  affecting  testimonial  of  spontaneous 
affection  was  manifested  by  the  concourse  of  com- 
mon people,  who  came  from  all  parts  of  the  sur- 
rounding country,  to  look  their  last  upon  her  who 
had  ever  opened  her  heart  to  their  woes  and  her 
purse  to  the  alleviation  of  their  distresses. 

"  She  expired  at  noon  of  Sunday,  the  26th  of  May, 
in  the  fifty-third  year  of  her  age.  Her  body  was 
embalmed,  and  on  the  sixth  day  after  her  death 
deposited  in  a  vault  in  the  church  of  Eueil,  close 
to  Malmaison.  The  funeral  ceremonies  were  mag- 
nificent ;  but  a  better  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
Josephine  was  to  be  found  in  the  tears  with  which 
her  children,  her  servants,  the  neighboring  poor,  and 
all  that  knew  her,  followed  her  to  the  grave. 

"  In  1826  a  beautiful  monument  was  erected 
over  her  remains  by  Eugene  Beauharnais  and  his 
sister,  with  this  simple  inscription  :  .  .  . 

"To  JOSEPHINE. 
"  EUGENE.  HORTENSE." 


420  JOSEPHINE. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

IN  RETROSPECT. 

JOSEPHINE  had  been  in  her  grave  at  Rueil  nearly 
a  year,  when  Bonaparte  returned  from  Elba,  where 
he  had  vainly  awaited  the  arrival  of  Marie  Louise. 
He  found  Hortense  in  Paris,  and  together  they 
visited  Malmaison.  During  the  absence  of  Eugene, 
who  was  detained  in  Germany,  and  during  the 
period  of  Napoleon's  absence  at  Elba,  Hortense  had 
been  faithful  to  the  imperial  fortunes,  although  she 
had  received  some  favors  from  his  enemies,  the 
Bourbons. 

They  alighted  at  the  gate  of  Malmaison  ;  as  they 
entered  the  vestibule,  Napoleon  was  greatly  moved. 

Taking  the  arm  of  his  adopted  daughter,  he  walked 
with  her  in  the  gardens,  through  the  park,  and  in 
the  conservatory,  conversing  of  her  whose  works 
greeted  them  from  every  side,  had  been  the  objects 
of  her  care.  At  every  turn  of  walk  or  alley,  at  the 
entrance  to  every  shaded  pathway,  it  seemed  to  these 
mourners  that  she  should  appear  to  them,  as  she  had 
been  in  life,  the  animating  presence,  the  soul  of  life 
and  gayety.  Filled  with  oppressive  thoughts,  they 
entered  the  dwelling  and  breakfasted  in  silence, 


JOSEPHINE.  421 

Then  the  Emperor  slowly  traversed  the  gallery  filled 
with  the  pictures  Josephine  had  so  carefully  collected 
there ;  the  many  works  of  art  which  had  been  the 
objects  of  her  jealous  care.  After  inspecting  them, 
Napoleon  manifested  his  desire  to  visit  the  chamber 
in  which  his  wife  had  died.  Hortense  was  about  to 
accompany  him,  but  he  signed  her  to  remain,  and 
alone  pursued  his  way  to  this  well-remembered 
apartment,  which  was  to  him  fraught  with  so  many 
tender  memories.  He  remained  a  long  time  beside 
the  bed  in  which  Josephine  had  breathed  her  last, 
lost  in  reverie,  dwelling  upon  the  memory  of  that 
one  who  had  once  lived  with  him  in  intimate  com- 
panionship, then  he  descended  to  rejoin  Hortense,  a 
prey  to  emotions  which  he  did  not  attempt  to  conceal. 
That  night,  again,  he  was  at  the  Tuileries,  where, 
says  Bourrienne,  ' '  even  more  than  at  Fontainebleau, 
his  mind  was  flooded  by  the  deep  and  painful  recol- 
lections of  the  past.  A  few  nights  after  his  return 
hither  he  sent  for  M.  Horan,  one  of  the  physicians 
who  had  attended  Josephine  during  her  last  illness. 
*  So,  Monsieur  Horan,  you  did  not  leave  the 
Empress  during  her  malady  ? '  *  No,  Sire.'  '  What 
was  the  cause  of  that  malady  ? '  ''  Uneasiness  of 
mind.  .  .  .  Grief.'  .  .  .  'What?  You  believe  that  ?' 
(and  Napoleon  laid  a  strong  emphasis  on  the  word 
believe,  looking  steadfastly  in  the  doctor's  face). 
He  then  asked,  '  Was  she  long  ill  ?  Did  she  suffer 
much  ? '  '  She  was  ill  a  week,  Sire,  her  Majesty 
suffered  little  bodily  pain.'  '  Did  she  see  that  she 
was  dying ?  Did  she  show  courage  ? '  'A  sign  her 


422  JOSEPHINE. 

Majesty  made,  when  she  could  no  longer  express 
herself,  leaves  me  no  doubt  that  she  felt  her  end 
approaching,  she  seemed  to  contemplate  it  without 
fear.' 

'  Well,  .  .  .  well,'  and  then  Napoleon,  much 
affected,  drew  close  to  Monsieur  Horan,  and  added  : 
'  You  say  that  she  was  in  grief,  from  what  did  that 
arise  ? '  '  From  passing  events,  Sire,  from  your 
Majesty's  position  last  year. '  '  Ah,  she  used  to  speak 
of  me,  then  ? '  'Very  often.'  Here  Napoleon  drew 
his  hand  across  his  eyes,  which  seemed  filled  with 
tears.  He  then  went  on  :  .  .  .  '  Good  woman.  .  .  . 
Excellent  Josephine.  .  .  .  She  loved  me  truly, — she 
—did  she  not  ? '  .  .  .  Ah,  she  was  a  French  woman.' 
'  Yes,  Sire,  she  loved  you, .  and  she  would .  have 
proven  it  had  it  not  been  for  dread  of  displeasing 
you,  she  had  conceived  an  idea.'  .  .  .  'How?  .  .  . 
What  would  she  have  done  ? ' 

"  She  one  day  said  that,  as  Empress  of  the  French, 
she  would  drive  through  Paris,  with  eight  horses  to 
her  coach,  and  all  her  household  in  gala  livery,  to 
go  and  rejoin  you  at  Fontainebleau,  and  never  leave 
you  more." 

"Napoleon  again  betrayed  deep  emotion,  on  re- 
covering from  which  he  asked  the  physician  the 
most  minute  questions  about  the  nature  of  Jose- 
phine's disease,  the  friends  and  attendants  who 
were  around  her  at  the  hour  of  her  death,  and  the 
conduct  of  her  children." 

Two  months  later,  Bonaparte  left  Paris  for  his 
last  campaign,  which  was  to  result  in  death,  in 


JOSEPHINE.  423 

exile  or  a  crown.  He  speedily  returned,  having  lost, 
at  Waterloo,  all  he  had  staked  :  crown,  country, 
wife  and  son. 

Convinced  that  there  was  now  no  alternative  to 
leaving  France  forever,  the  Emperor  desired  to  pass 
the  few  remaining  days  of  his  liberty  at  Malmaison. 
Hortense,  his  ever-faithful  friend  in  misfortune, 
came  to  keep  him  company,  almost  the  sole  remain- 
ing companion  of  his  former  greatness.  Napoleon 
remained  five  days  at  Malmaison,  vainly  attending 
the  awakening  of  the  country's  dormant  patriotism  ; 
he  was  still  ready  to  attempt  again  resistance  to  the 
invaders.  But  the  interests  of  France  demanded 
his  sacrifice ;  not  on  the  field  of  battle,  where  he 
would  gladly  have  died,  but  as  an  exile,  beyond  the 
borders  of  the  country  he  had  made  so  great. 

Five  days  he  lived  in  suspense,  surrounded  by  the 
evidences  of  his  happier  life  now  past  and  gone, 
dwelling  upon  the  scenes  of  those  departed  days 
when  at  his  side  walked  a  loving  companion,  whose 
presence  was  a  charm  against  gloom  and  melan- 
choly. 

It  was  most  fitting,  that  Napoleon  should  return 
to  this  spot,  of  all  others  most  intimately  associated 
with  his  happiest  moments,  to  muse  upon  his  van- 
ished greatness,  and  pass  in  review  the  incidents  of 
his  eventful  life. 

His  career  ended  here  ;  at  Malmaison  the  curtain 
falls  before  the  stage  upon  which  he  had  performed 
such  glorious  feats  of  arms  ;  Napoleon  the  warrior, 
the  king-maker,  the  conqueror  of  states  and  empires, 


424  JOSEPHINE. 

before  whom  the  world  had  trembled,  all  Europe 
prostrated  herself,  is  seen  here  alone,  abandoned  by 
all,  preparing  for  flight.  At  last,  it  had  come  to 
this  !  On  the  twenty-ninth  of  June,  1815,  at  mid- 
day, bidding  farewell  to  Horte'nse,  and  to  such  of 
his  friends  as  remained,  Napoleon  departed  for 
Rochefort,  there  hoping  to  take  passage  for  the 
United  States.  Disappointed,  betrayed,  watched  by 
his  relentless  foe,  who  guarded  with  her  ships  every 
avenue  of  escape,  he  surrendered  to  England  ;  throw- 
ing himself  upon  her  generosity, — to  receive  his 
reward  at  Saint  Helena. 

He  no  longer  cherished  the  delusion,  so  jealously 
maintained  at  Elba,  that  his  wife  would  rejoin  him 
in  captivity  ;  but  Napoleon  was  well  persuaded  that, 
had  Josephine  been  alive,  he  would  not  have  been 
forsaken  thus. 

Three  years  after  the  death  of  Napoleon,  at  Saint 
Helena,  the  son  of  Josephine,  Eugene,  the  faithful 
follower  of  his  adopted  father,  was  laid  in  the 
grave.  Says  Bourrienne  : 

"  The  Viceroy  of  Italy  was  in  Vienna  when  Napo- 
leon returned  from  Elba,  and  fell  under  the  suspicion 
of  the  allies  of  having  informed  the  Emperor  of 
their  intention  of  removing  him  from  the  island. 
He  was  detained  in  Bavaria  by  his  father-in-law, 
the  King,  to  whose  court  he  retired,  and  who,  in 
1817,  created  him  Duke  of  Leuchtenberg  and  Prince 
of  Eichstadt.  With  the  protection  of  Bavaria,  he 
actually  succeeded  in  wringing  from  the  Bourbons 
some  700,000  francs  of  the  property  of  his  mother. 


JOSEPHINE.  425 

A  first  attack  of  apoplexy  struck  him  in  1823,  and  he 
died  from  a  second  in  February,  1824,  at  Munich. 
His  descendants  have  intermarried  into  the  royal 
families  of  Portugal,  Sweden,  Brazil,  Russia  and 
Wurtemburg.'1 

"  Josephine's  daughter,  Hortense,  separated  from 
her  husband,  Louis  Bonaparte,  and  created  Duchess 
of  St.  Leu  by  Louis  XVIII.,  was  in  Paris,  much 
suspected  by  the  Bourbons,  but  really  engaged  in  a 
lawsuit  with  her  husband  about  the  custody  of  her 
sons,  when  Napoleon  arrived  from  Elba.  She  had 
to  go  into  hiding  when  the  news  of  the  landing 
arrived,  but  her  empty  house,  left  unwatched,  be- 
came very  useful  for  receiving  the  Bonapartists, 
who  wished  for  a  place  of  concealment, — amongst 
them  being,  of  all  people,  Fouche  ! 

"  Hortense  was  met  by  Napoleon  with  some 
reproaches  for  accepting  a  title  from  the  Bourbons, 
but  she  did  the  honors  of  the  Elysee  for  him ;  and 
it  is  creditable  to  both  of  them,  that,  braving  the 
vile  slanders  about  their  previous  intercourse,  she 
was  with  him  to  the  end  ;  and  that  one  of  the  last 
persons  to  embrace  him  at  Malmaison  before  he 
started  for  the  coast,  was  his  adopted  daughter,  the 
child  of  his  discarded  wife. 

"  Hortense's  presence  in  Paris  was  thought  to  be 
too  dangerous,  by  the  Prussian  governor,  and  she 
was  peremptorily  ordered  to  leave  .  .  .  and  she  had 
to  start  at  the  shortest  notice  on  a  wandering  life 
to  Aix,  Baden,  and  Constance,  till  the  generosity  of 
the  small  but  brave  canton  of  Thurgau  enabled 


426  JOSEPHINE. 

her  to  get  a  resting-place  at  the  Chateau  of  Arenen- 
berg. 

"In  1831  she  lost  her  second  son,  the  eldest  then 
surviving,  who  died  from  fever  in  a  revolutionary 
attempt  in  which  he  and  his  younger  brother,  the 
future  Napoleon  III.,  were  engaged. 

"She  was  able  to  visit  France  incognita,  and  even 
to  see  Louis  Philippe  and  his  queen  ;  but  her  pres- 
ence in  the  country  was  soon  thought  dangerous, 
and  she  was  urged  to  leave.  In  1836  Hortense's 
third  and  last  son,  Louis  Napoleon,  made  his  at- 
tempt at  an  emeute  at  Strasburg  and  was  shipped  off 
to  America  by  the  Government.  She  went  to  France 
to  plead  for  him,  and  then,-  worn  out  by  grief  and 
and  anxiety,  returned  to  Arenenberg,  which  her 
son,  the  future  Emperor,  only  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing in  time  to  see  her  die,  in  October,  1837. 

"She  was  laid  with  Josephine  at  Rueil." 

In  the  month  of  August,  1831,  a  sorrowing  woman, 
an  exile  from  France,  which  she  was  then  leav- 
ing, came  to  and  mysteriously  entered  the  little 
church  at  Rueil.  She  was  accompanied  by  a  young 
man  who  had  come  with  her  to  pay  their  last  re- 
spects to  the  memory  of  Josephine.  The  Empress' 
daughter  and  grandson  prostrated  themselves  at  the 
foot  of  her  statue  which  surmounts  the  tomb,  and 
there  remained  a  long  time  engaged  in  prayer. 

"  What  sorrowful  feelings  oppressed  me,"  wrote 
Hortense  in  her  Memoirs,  "  as  I  entered  this  sacred 
place,  as  I  knelt  before  the  image  of  my  cherished 
mother  ;  and  the  sad  thought  possessed  me  that,  of 


JOSEPHINE.  427 

all  she  had  loved,  I  was  left  alone,  with  my  son, 
isolated  from  my  kindred,  and  even  obliged  to  fly 
from  the  place  where  she  herself  reposed.  The 
quantities  of  flowers  which  adorned  the  monument 
(which  my  brother  and  myself  had,  with  so  much 
trouble,  obtained  permission  to  raise  to  her  memory) 
proved  to  me  that  she  rested  in  the  midst  of  friends, 
to  whom  her  memory  was  still  dear  ;  her  daughter 
alone  was  forgotten.  .  .  . 

"  I  paused  at  the  portal  of  Malmaison,  prevented 
from  entering  by  the  orders  of  the  proprietor.  .  .  . 
But  I  recalled  that  here  the  Emperor  had  last  rested, 
ere  he  left  France  forever.  It  was  here  that  I  was 
enabled  to  minister  to  him  in  those  sad  moments, 
when,  abandoned  by  all,  he  was  plunged  into  the 
greatest  of  his  misfortunes.  Here  I  saw  him,  after 
Waterloo,  still  full  of  courage,  and  forgetting  his 
own  misfortunes  in  the  greater  ones  which  had  over- 
whelmed his  country,  which  he  still  wished  to  de- 
fend. But  they  feared  what  they  called  his  chains, 
and  in  the  name  of  liberty  they  delivered  them- 
selves into  the  hands  of  their  enemies." 

Six  years  later,  in  accordance  with  her  last  wishes, 
her  remains  were  placed  within  the  same  church  at 
Rueil,  where  to-day  may  be  seen  the  monuments 
inscribed  with  "HORTENSE"  and  "JOSEPHINE": 
names  which  appeal  to  all  lovers  of  goodness  and 
truth. 

During  his  long  exile  on  the  rock  of  Saint  Helena, 
Bonaparte  frequently  referred  to  Josephine,  and  in 
his  Memoirs  pays  ample  tribute  to  her  worth. 


428  JOSEPHINE. 

Although  he  never  gave  utterance  to  any  doubt 
respecting  his  second  wife,  even  if  convinced  of  her 
perfidy,  yet  he  could  not  but  compare  her  with 
Josephine,  to  the  latter's  advantage.  "Josephine, 
at  least,"  said  he,  "  would  never  have  abandoned  me. 
I  was  attached  to  both  my  wives  ;  the  one  was 
the  votary  of  art  and  the  graces  ;  the  other  was  all 
innocence  and  simple  nature  ;  and  each  had  a  very 
high  degree  of  merit.  .  .  .  The  first,  at  no  moment 
of  her  life,  ever  assumed  a  position  or  attitude  that 
was  not  pleasing  or  captivating  ;  it  was  impossible 
to  take  her  by  surprise,  or  to  make  her  feel  the  least 
inconvenience.  She  employed  every  resource  of 
art  to  heighten  natural  attractions,  but  with  such 
ingenuity  as  to  render  every  trace  of  allurement 
imperceptible.  The  other,  on  the  contrary,  never 
suspected  that  anything  was  to  be  gained  by  inno- 
cent artifice. 

"  The  one  was  always  somewhat  short  of  the  truth 
of  nature  ;  the  other  was  altogether  frank  and  open, 
and  was  a  stranger  to  subterfuge.  The  first  never 
asked  me  for  anything,  but  was  always  in  debt  to 
every  one  ;  the  second  freely  asked  whenever  she 
wanted,  which,  however,  very  seldom  happened, 
and  she  never  thought  of  receiving  anything  without 
immediately  paying  for  it. 

"  Both  were  amiable  and  gentle,  and  strongly  at- 
tached to  me.  .  .  . 

"  A  son  by  Josephine  would  have  completed  my 
happiness,  not  only  in  a  political  point  of  view,  but 
as  a  source  of  domestic  felicity.  As  a  political  result 


JOSEPHINE.  429 

it  would  have  secured  to  me  the  possession  of  the 
throne  ;  the  French  people  would  have  been  as  much 
attached  to  the  son  of  Josephine  as  they  were  to  the 
King  of  Rome  ;  and  I  should  not  have  set  my  foot 
on  an  abyss  covered  with  a  bed  of  flowers.  .  .  .  But 
how  vain  are  all  human  calculations  !  Who  can 
pretend  to  decide  on  what  may  lead  to  happiness  or 
unhappiness  in  this  life  ?  Still,  I  cannot  help  believ- 
ing that  such  a  pledge  of  our  union  would  have 
proved  a  source  of  domestic  felicity  ;  it  would  have 
put  an  end  to  the  jealousy  of  Josephine,  by  which  I 
was  continually  harassed,  and  which  after  all  was 
the  offspring  of  policy  rather  than  of  sentiment.  .  . 

"Josephine  despaired  of  having  a  child,  and  she 
in  consequence  looked  forward  with  dread  to  the 
future.  She  was  well  aware  that  no  marriage  is 
perfect  without  children  ;  and  at  the  time  of  her 
second  nuptials  there  was  no  longer  any  probability 
of  her  becoming  a  mother.  In  proportion  as  her 
fortune  advanced  her  alarm  increased." 

Josephine  possessed  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the 
different  shades  of  the  Emperor's  character,  and 
she  exhibited  the  most  exquisite  tact  in  turning  this 
knowledge  to  account.  "For  example,"  said  the 
Emperor,  ' '  she  never  solicited  any  favor  for  Eugene, 
or  thanked  me  for  any  that  I  conferred  on  him. 
She  never  even  showed  any  additional  complaisance 
or  assiduity  at  the  moment  when  the  greatest 
honors  were  lavished  on  him.  Her  grand  aim  was 
to  prove  that  this  was  my  affair,  not  hers,  and  that 
it  tended  to  my  advantage. 


430  JOSEPHINE. 

"  She  never  failed  to  accompany  me  on  all  my 
journeys  ;  neither  fatigue  nor  privation  could  deter 
her  from  following  me  ;  and  she  employed  impor- 
tunity and  even  artifice  to  gain  her  point.  ...  If 
I  stepped  into  my  carriage  at  midnight,  to  set  out 
on  the  longest  journey,  to  my  surprise  I  found 
Josephine  all  ready  prepared,  though  I  had  no  idea 
of  her  accompanying  me.  'But, 'I  would  say  to 
her,  '  you  cannot  possibly  go,  the  journey  is  too  long 
and  will  be  too  fatiguing  for  you.'  'Not  at  all,' 
she  would  reply.  '  Besides,  I  must  set  out  instantly. ' 
'  Well,  I  am  quite  ready. '  '  But  you  must  take  a 
great  deal  of  luggage. '  '  Oh,  no,  everything  is  packed 
up  ; '  and  I  was  generally  obliged  to  yield .  In  a 
word,  Josephine  rendered  her  husband  happy,  and 
constantly  proved  herself  his  sincerest  friend.  At 
all  times  and  on  all  occasions  she  manifested  the 
most  perfect  submission  and  devotedness  ;  and  thus 
I  shall  never  cease  to  remember  her  with  tenderness 
and  gratitude."  * 

It  has  been  said  that  the  life  of  the  Empress 
Josephine  offers  little  valuable  material  for  history  ; 
but  we  venture  to  believe  the  contrary  ;  for  it  can- 
not, certainly,  be  unprofitable  to  study  the  career 

*  "  Before  Austerlitz,"  wrote  Mme.  de  Remusat,  "  the  Empress  was 
as  fully  confident  as  the  wife  of  Bonaparte  would  naturally  be. 
Happy  to  be  allowed  to  accompany  him  and  escape  from  the  talk  of 
Paris,  and  delighted  with  the  fresh  opportunity  for  display,  she 
looked  on  a  campaign  as  on  a  journey,  and  maintained  a  composure 
which,  as  it  could  not,  by  reason  of  her  position,  proceed  from  indif- 
ference, was  a  genuine  compliment  to  him  whom  she  firmly  believed 
Fortune  would  not  dare  to  forsake." 


JOSEPHINE.  431 

of  one  whose  life  was  so  eventful,  whose  character 
and  social  influence  always  rose  to  the  level  required 
by  her  high  destiny.  And  again  :  her  life  is  the 
canvas  upon  which,  in  strong  relief,  we  may  find 
projected  the  character  of  that  great  genius  with 
whom  her  fortune  was  so  intimately  associated.  In 
the  record  of  her  life  we  may  find  that  of  her 
glorious  consort  ;  but  here  we  discover,  not  the 
Napoleon  known  to  the  world  of  war,  to  the  courtiers 
and  statesmen,  but  find  him  dwelling  in  the  inti- 
macy of  his  family  ;  a  man  of  heart,  of  sensibilities, 
of  domesticity  and  loving  traits,  that  bind  his 
friends  inseparably  to  him.  We  find  incontestible 
evidence  that  Napoleon  possessed,  what  •  has  been 
denied  him  by  his  enemies,  the  capacity  for  love  and 
for  constant  affection.  The  history  of  Josephine's 
life,  therefore,  is  necessary  to  complete  that  of 
Napoleon  :  to  soften  the  stern  and  martial  figure 
that  shines  isolate  in  his  battles  ;  in  fact,  to  give 
a  human  aspect  to  one  who  has  been  declared  devoid 
of  the  tenderer  traits  of  humanity.* 

But  we  should  note  that  the  grander  figure  of 
Bonaparte  does  not  overshadow  or  efface  that  of 
his  gentler  companion  ;  far  from  seeming  incongru- 
ous, in  truth,  the  image  of  Josephine  completely 
harmonizes  with  that  of  the  modern  Charlemagne. 

His  rugged  strength  is  tempered  by  her  elegance, 
his  brusqueness  by  her  sweetness,  his  wit  by  her 
tact,  his  passion  by  her  mildness. 

To  Josephine  belongs  the  signal  honor  of  main- 
*  Aubenas. 


432  JOSEPHINE. 

taining  herself  with  credit  by  the  side  of  this  master 
of  Europe,  when  at  the  resplendent  summit  of  his 
ambitions.  She  does  not  shine  solely  in  the  reflec- 
tion of  his  refulgence,  but  she  is  held  in  loving 
remembrance  for  her  own  remarkable  personality, 
her  memory  still  cherished  by  a  nation  which  knew 
her  only  to  admire. 

Unlike  Napoleon's  second  wife,  Josephine  pos- 
sessed, notwithstanding  her  amiable  and  complaisant 
nature,  a  strong  and  vigorous  personality  ;  she  has 
impressed  herself  upon  the  life  of  the  times  in  which 
she  dwelt,  upon  the  attention  of  those  who  have 
succeeded  her. 

NAPOLEON — JOSEPHINE  : — these  two  inseparable 
names  recall  two  types  of  character  which  will 
be  forever  popular  :  in  the  one  will  be  admired  his 
genius  and  his  grandeur  ;  in  the  other  her  grace  and 
goodness ;  but  impartial  history  will  place  above 
these  attributes,  her  devotion  and  abnegation. 

' '  C'est  mon  divorce  qui  m'a  perdu, "  said  Napoleon, 
when,  at  Saint  Helena,  he  passed  his  life  in  sad 
review  before  him,  and  reflected  upon  the  unhappy 
consequences  of  the  alliance  with  the  house  of 
Austria.  - 

What  would  he  have  added  could  he  have  had  the 
gift  of  prescience  and  have  seen  into  the  future  ? 

He  had  sundered  the  ties  that  bound  him  to 
Josephine,  for  the  ostensible  reason  that  his  destiny 
and  his  country  demanded  an  heir  ;  but  after  the 
birth  of  that  heir,  he  lost  the  crown  which  was  the 
object  of  the  heritage. 


JOSEPHINE.  433 

At  the  outset  Bonaparte  had  provided,  for  the 
safeguard  of  France  and  the  stability  of  his  dynasty, 
a  royal  succession. 

In  default  of  an  heir  on  his  part  the  crown  was 
to  pass  to  his  brother  Joseph,  or  to  Louis,  or  to  the 
heir  of  one  of  these  two  brothers.  The  Emperor 
and  his  eldest  brother  dying  without  male  issue, 
the  crown  was  to  pass  to  the  King  of  Holland  and 
his  descendants. 

Was  it  not  the  irony  of  fate,  that  the  original 
provision  for  the  royal  succession  should  eventually 
be  fulfilled,  and  that  a  son  of  Louis  and  grandson 
of  Josephine  should  occupy  the  throne,  in  the  person 
of  Napoleon  III.  ?  Providence,  or  Fate,  had  recti- 
fied the  great  error  of  Napoleon's  life,  by  carrying 
out  his  first  intention  for  the  perpetuation  of  the 

Napoleonic  dynasty  ! 
28 


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IINE  S   PARENTS. 


APPENDIX. 


i. 

English  account  of  the  capture  of  Martinique, — 1762. 
From  the  "  Chronological  History  of  the  West  Indies,"  by 
Captain  Thomas  Southey  :  London,  1827. 

"  Upon  the  fifth  of  January,  Rear- Admiral  Rodney,  with 
eighteen  sail  of  the  line,  besides  frigates,  bombs,  and  trans- 
ports, and  eighteen  battalions  of  troops,  13,965  men,  under 
the  command  of  Major  General  Monckton,  sailed  from 
Barbados.  Admiral  Rodney  detached  five  sail  of  the 
line  to  Fort  Royal  Bay,  and  ordered  one  of  the  ships  to  hoist 
a  flag  similar  to  his.  At  the  same  time,  to  distract  the 
enemy's  attention,  five  frigates  were  sent  off  La  Trinite,  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  island  ;  he  anchored  himself  on  the 
8th,  in  St.  Ann's  Bay,  Martinico.  The  line-of-battle  ships 
silenced  the  batteries  on  that  part  of  the  coast,  in  doing 
which  the  "  Reasonable"  was  lost,  on  a  reef  of  rocks  ;  her 
men  and  stores  were  saved.  The  general,  however,  judg- 
ing this  to  be  an  improper  place  for  landing  the  troops, 
sent  two  brigades,  commanded  by  Generals  Haviland  and 
Grant,  to  the  bay  of  Petit  Anse.  The  troops  were  landed 
and  marched  to  the  heights  opposite  Pigeon  Island. 

"On  the  10th,  Captain  Hervey,  in  the  "  Dragon,"  silenced 
a  strong  fort  in  Grand  Anse,  landed  his  marines  and  took 
possession  of  it,  until  General  Haviland  sent  Colonel  Mel- 
ville, with  eight  hundred  men,  to  relieve  him.  General 
Haviland,  finding  the  roads  impassable  for  cannon,  sent  to 


436  APPENDIX. 

inform  General  Monckton  that  the  troops  had  better  be 
reimbarked.  During  the  night  the  brigades  were  attacked, 
but  the  assailants  were  compelled  to  retreat  with  loss  ;  and 
the  troops,  after  blowing  up  the  batteries  at  St.  Ann's,  re- 
embarked  and  proceeded  to  Fort  Royal  Bay.  Various  feints 
were  ordered  at  different  parts  of  the  island. 

"  Early  in  the  morning  of  the  sixteenth,  the  ships  began  to 
cannonade  the  batteries  in  Cas-des-navire  Bay.  Having 
silenced  them  by  noon,  the  troops  were  landed  without  loss, 
and  General  Monckton  formed  his  army  on  the  heights 
above  the  bay,  and  as  soon  as  the  tents  could  be  landed,  en- 
camped there. 

"  The  general  resolved  to  besiege  Fort  Royal,  and  to  carry 
the  height  of  Garnier  and  Tortueson,  which  the  enemy 
appeared  resolved  to  defend.  The  English  had  to  cross  a 
ravine  to  attack,  and  to  defend  them  a  battery  was  neces- 
sary. On  the  24th,  at  day-dawn,  Brigadier-General  Grant,  at 
the  head  of  the  grenadiers,  supported  by  Lord  Rollo's  brigade, 
attacked  the  enemy.  At  the  same  time,  Brigadier  Rufane, 
with  his  brigade,  reinforced  by  the  marines,  marched  to 
attack  the  redoubts  along  the  shore  to  the  right,  one  thou- 
sand seamen,  in  flat-bottomed  boats,  rowing  up  as  he 
advanced  ;  and  another  brigade,  under  Colonel  Scott,  went 
to  turn  the  enemy  upon  their  left,  which  they  did  ;  at  the 
same  time  the  grenadiers  were  driving  all  before  them.  By 
nine  A.  M. ,  Morne  Tortueson  and  all  the  redoubts  and  bat- 
teries with  which  it  was  defended,  were  in  possession  of  the 
English.  The  French  retired  in  confusion  to  Morne  Garnier 
and  Fort  Royal.  Colonel  Scott,  with  Walsh's  brigade, 
advanced  on  the  left  and  took  an  advantageous  position 
opposite  Morne  Garnier  ;  these  were  supported  by  Haviland's 
corps,  and  the  road  between  was  covered  by  the  marines. 

' '  Next  day,  the  English  began  to  erect  batteries  against  the 
citadel  of  Fort  Royal,  but  were  greatly  annoyed  from  Morne 
Garnier.  At  f our'p.  M.  ,  on  the  27th,  the  French  made  a  furious 


APPENDIX.  437 

attack  on  the  posts  occupied  by  the  light  infantry  and  Havi- 
land's  brigade  ;  but  were  repulsed  with  great  loss,  and  the 
English  passed  the  ravine  with  the  fugitives,  seized  their 
batteries  and  took  possession  of  the  ground.  "Walsh's 
brigade  and  the  grenadiers  under  Grant,  marched  to  their 
assistance  when  the  attack  began.  By  nine  P.  M.  ,  this  very 
strong  post  was  completely  carried.  It  commanded  the 
citadel,  against  which  their  own  artillery  was  turned,  the 
next  morning.  The  French  regulars  had  retired  into  the 
town,  but  the  militia  dispersed  into  the  country.  On  the 
30th,  the  general  ordered  Morne  Capuchin  to  be  taken,  and 
upon  it  batteries  to  be  erected  about  four  hundred  yards 
from  the  fort.  The  enemy,  seeing  the  preparations  for 
attacking  the  place,  beat  the  chamade  on  the  evening  of  the 
3d  of  February.  Next  day  the  governor  surrendered  the 
place  by  capitulation  ;  on  the  4th  of  February  the  gate  of 
the  citadel  was  given  up  to  the  English.  The  garrison,  to 
the  number  of  eight  hundred,  marched  out,  next  morning, 
with  honors  of  war. 

"  Deputations  now  arrived  from  the  different  quarters  of 
the  island  desiring  a  capitulation  ;  but  M.  de  la  Touche,  the 
governor-general,  retired  with  his  forces  to  St.  Pierre,  which 
he  proposed  to  defend.  .  .  .  Fourteen  privateers  were  found 
in  the  harbor  of  Fort  Royal.  As  the  troops  were  embark- 
ing to  attack  St.  Pierre,  two  deputies  from  de  la  Touche 
arrived  with  proposals  for  the  capitulation  of  the  whole 
island.  On  the  14th  February  the  terms  were  settled,  on 
the  16th  the  English  took  possession  of  St.  Pierre,  and  all 
the  forts,  while  the  governor,  with  M.  Rouille,  the  lieu- 
tenant governor,  and  his  staff,  with  some  grenadiers,  were 
embarked  for  France  in  transports. 

u  The  conquest  of  this  island  cost  the  English  about  four 
hundred  men,  including  officers,  killed  and  wounded. 

"  By  the  articles  of  capitulation,  all  the  troops  were  to  be 
sent  to  France,  at  his  Britannic  Majesty's  expense.  The 


438  APPENDIX. 

request  that  the  ' '  militia  and  other  inhabitants  that  now 
make  part  of  the  said  garrison,  may  retire  to  their  homes, 
with  their  servants,  likewise  "  was  granted  ;  and  under  this 
capitulation,  M.  de  Tascher  was  allowed  to  leave  promptly 
for  his  plantation. 

"  The  islands  of  St.  Lucia,  Tobago,  and  St.  Vincent,  were 
taken  by  the  English  the  same  month,  and  are  to-day  in 
British  possession." 

1763 — "  The  island  of  Martinique  was  infested  by  ants,  to 
such  an  extent  that  it  was  seriously  debated  whether  it 
might  not  have  to  be  abandoned.  These  ants  were  supposed 
to  have  been  brought  here  in  the  slave  ships  from  Africa. 
In  Martinico  they  destroyed  all  the  culinary  vegetables  ; 
the  quadrupeds  were  hardly  able  to  subsist  ;  the  largest 
trees  were  so  infested  that  even  the  most  voracious  birds 
would  not  light  on  them.  In  short  the  greatest  precautions 
were  requisite  to  prevent  their  attacks  on  men  who  were 
afflicted  with  sores,  on  women  who  were  confined  in  child- 
bed, and  on  children  who  were  unable  to  assist  themselves." 

II. 

Slaves — 1751.  "M.  Bossu,  whose  testimony,  Mr.  Lang 
says,  is  of  great  weight,  relates  that  some  French  planters 
force  their  slaves  to  such  hard  labor  that  they  refuse  to 
marry,  in  order  to  avoid  generating  a  race  of  beings  to  be 
enslaved  to  such  masters,  who  treat  them,  when  old  and 
infirm,  worse  than  their  dogs  and  horses.  ...  I  have  seen, 
he  adds,  a  planter,  whose  name  was  Chaperon,  who  forced 
one  of  his  negroes  into  a  heated  oven,  where  the  poor  wretch 
expired  ;  and,  his  jaws  being  shrivelled  up,  the  barbarous 
owner  said  :  '  I  believe  the  rascal  is  laughing  at  me,'  and 
took  a  poker  to  stir  him  up." 

The  death  penalty  was  applied  for  most  trivial  offences. 
In  Jamaica  (English)  in  quelling  an  insurrection  of  the  black 


APPENDIX.  439 

maroons,  "  the  prisoners  were  found  guilty  of  rebellion,  and 
put  to  death  by  a  variety  of  torments — some  burned,  some 
fixed  alive  upon  gibbets.  One  of  these  lived  eight  days  and 
eighteen  hours,  suspended  under  a  vertical  sun,  without 
any  sustenance,  or  even  water.  .  .  .  Two  of  the  ringleaders 
were  hung  up  alive  in  irons,  on  a  gibbet  erected  in  the 
parade  of  the  town  of  Kingston.  Fortune  lived  seven 
days,  but  Kingston  survived  till  the  ninth.  The  morning 
before  the  latter  expired  he  appeared  to  be  convulsed  from 
head  to  foot,  and  upon  being  opened  after  his  decease,  his 
lungs  were  found  adhering  to  the  back  so  tightly  that  it 
required  some  force  to  disengage  them.  They  behaved  all 
the  time  with  a  degree  of  hardened  insolence  and  brutal 
insensibility." 

Slaves — 1774.  A  Mr.  Jefferys  (mentioned  in  "Southey's 
West  Indies,")  saw  seven  slaves  executed  at  one  time  in 
Tobago  ;  their  right  arms  were  chopped  off,  and  they  were 
then  dragged  to  seven  stakes  and  burned  to  death.  One  of 
them,  named  Chubb,  stretched  his  arm  out  on  the  block, 
and  coolly  pulled  up  his  sleeve.  He  would  not  be  drawn, 
but  walked  to  the  stake.  One,  named  Sampson,  was  hung 
alive  in  chains,  and  was  seven  days  dying.  Their  crimes 
were  murder  and  destroying  property. 

The  Tritri — From  a  colonial  law  enacted  1763.  "All  per- 
sons who  shall  place  cloth  in  the  rivers  for  the  purpose  of  tak- 
ing small  fish  called  tritri,  shall  be  subjected  to  the  same 
penalties  as  are  prescribed  for  the  turning  the  course  of  rivers 
for  larger  fish  :  viz. :  flogging  for  slaves,  and  the  pillory  for 
three  days  ;  and  of  greater  punishment  in  case  of  repetition. 
Slaves  detected  in  the  act  of  poisoning  rivers  for  the  taking 
of  fish,  to  be  sentenced  to  the  galleys  for  life." 

1763 — 10th  February — A  definitive  treaty  of  peace  was 
concluded  at  Paris,  and  by  article  (8)  it  was  declared  that 
the  king  of  Great  Britain  "  shall  restore  to  France  the 
islands  of  Guadeloupe,  Mariegalante,  Desirade,  Martinico 


440  APPENDIX. 

and  Belleisle  ;  and  the  fortresses  of  those  islands  shall  be  re- 
stored in  the  same  condition  they  were  in  when  they  were 
conquered  by  the  British  arms,"  etc. 

III. 

The  Great  Hurricane  : — Southey's  "West-Indies." 

' '  1766.  At  Martinico,  upon  the  13th  of  August,  a  dreadful 
hurricane  began,  at  ten  P.  M.,  with  a  gale  from  the  north- 
west. At  midnight  the  shock  of  an  earthquake  added 
to  the  horrors  of  the  increased  hurricane.  At  three  A.  M.  ,  the 
gale  abated,  and  the  streets  of  St.  Pierre  appeared  covered 
with  ruins.  The  roads  were  blocked  by  trees  torn  up  by 
the  roots  ;  the  rivers  had  brought  down  stones  of  enormous 
size,  and  the  shore  was  strewn  with  wrecks  and  dead 
bodies.  At  five  A.  M.,  a  water-spout  burst  upon  Mt. 
Peleus,  and  overwhelmed  the  neighboring  plains.  At  six  it 
was  quite  calm  and  the  sea  was  smooth. 

' '  Twenty-eight  French  and  seven  English  vessels  were 
wrecked,  besides  twelve  passage  canoes.  Ninety  persons 
perished  under  the  ruins  of  their  own  houses,  and  twice 
that  number  were  wounded  in  St.  Pierre  alone.  In  going 
over  the  island,  we  shall  find  nearly  the  same  calamities, 
and  in  some  places  still  worse." 

The  year  1766  was  celebrated  for  the  numerous  earth- 
quakes and  hurricanes,  throughout  the  West  Indies. 

In  the  present  century,  probably  the  most  disastrous 
hurricane  that  visited  Martinique  was  in  the  year  1891,  in 
the  month  of  August. 

The  writer  of  this  biography  visited  the  island  four 
months  after  this  terrible  event,  and  was  a  witness  to  the 
distress  and  destitution  throughout  the  island.  It  will 
probably  never  recover  from  the  blow,  and  the  character 
of  the  population  has  been  so  affected,  by  the  hegira  of  the 
white  inhabitants,  as  to  impress  even  a  casual  observer. 


APPENDIX.  441 

The  following  account  of  the  hurricane  of  1891,  is  from 
the  Report  of  the  Hon.  A.  B.  Keevil,  U.  S.  Consul  : 

"Early  on  the  morning  of  the  18th  of  August  the  sky 
presented  a  very  leaden  appearance,  decidedly  threatening, 
with  occasional  gusts  of  variable  winds,  mostly  from  E.  N.  E. 
The  temperature  was  very  oppressive  during  the  entire  day. 
The  barometer  varied  only  slightly,  but  was  a  little  higher 
than  usual  until  afternoon,  when  it  commenced  to  fall,  at 
first  gradually  and  then  very  rapidly. 

"  It  is  stated  by  fishermen  who  were  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
Caraval  Rock  at  ten  A.  M..  that  an  immense  wave,  about  100 
feet  high  passed  from  the  direction  of  St.  Lucia,  closely 
followed  by  another  smaller  one,  although  the  sea  in  the 
vicinity  was  quite  calm  at  the  time. 

The  storm  struck  the  east  side  of  the  island  at  about  six 
p.  M.,  rushing  through  the  ravines  with  terrible  force  and 
destroying  everything  in  its  path.  On  the  elevated  plains 
the  ruin  was  most  complete.  One  very  peculiar  feature  of 
the  hurricane  was  the  deafness  experienced  by  every  one 
during  the  storm  (possibly  the  result  of  the  reduced  baro- 
metric pressure) .  During  the  cyclone  the  wind  veered  from 
E.  N.  E.  to  S.  S.  E. ,  the  latter  being  the  most  destructive. 
During  the  storm  there  were  incessant  flashes  of  sheet  light- 
ning, unaccompanied  by  thunder,  and  immediately  after  the 
storm  there  were  two  distinct  shocks  of  earthquake,  at 
intervals  of  about  five  seconds.  Early  in  September  I 
visited  Trinite,  and  all  the  way  the  destruction  was  most 
complete,  the  trees  and  vegetation  looking  as  though  there 
had  been  a  forest  fire,  although  without  the  charred 
appearance.  The  cane  suffered  least,  and  the  loss,  with 
favorable  weather,  will  not  amount  to  more  than  one-fifth 
of  its  value.  The  factories  and  distilleries  appear  to  have 
been  more  completely  destroyed  than  other  property. 

"  The  thermometer  ranged  from  90  °  to  100  °  Fahrenheit 
during  the  storm.  There  was  a  deluge  of  rain,  one  account 


442  APPENDIX. 

stating  that  over  four  inches  fell  in  a  few  hours  that  evening. 
My  own  residence  was  unroofed  and  flooded  with  water,  as 
was  the  case  with  nine-tenths  of  the  buildings  in  St.  Pierre, 
and  throughout  the  island  ;  the  loss  of  life  was  small  in  St. 
Pierre,  but  large  in  the  interior  towns,  notably  in  Morne 
Rouge,  where  eight  in  one  family  lost  their  lives.  The  total 
loss  of  life,  so  far  as  reliable  information  can  be  obtained, 
was  700,  and  the  loss  of  property  was  enormous.  All  the 
fruit,  the  main  reliance  of  the  laboring  class,  was  destroyed, 
and  prices  of  provisions  have  advanced  300  per  cent.  Every 
vessel  was  wrecked  or  badly  damaged,  about  50  sail  in  all. 
The  scene  the  island  presents  would  be  difficult  to  describe, 
and  the  inhabitants  are  sorely  stricken  and  demoralized. 
Such  a  night  of  terror  the  imagination  can  scarcely 
picture."  * 

1770.  Of  the  Creoles,  an  English  writer  observes  : — 
"We  may  see  a  very  fine  young  woman  awkwardly 
dangling  her  arms  with  the  air  of  a  negro  servant,  lolling 
almost  the  whole  day  upon  beds  or  settees,  her  head  muffled 
up  with  two  or  three  handkerchiefs,  her  dress  loose  and 
without  stays.  At  noon  we  find  her  gobbling  pepper-pot, 
seated  on  the  floor,  with  her  sable  handmaids  around  her.  In 
the  afternoon  she  takes  her  siesta,  as  usual,  while  two  or 
three  of  these  damsels  refresh  her  face  with  the  gentle 
breathings  of  the  fan,  and  a  third  provokes  the  drowsy 
powers  of  Morpheus  by  delicious  scratchings  on  the  sole  of 
either  foot.  When  she  arouses  from  sleep  her  speech  is 
whining,  languid  and  childish.  .  .  .  When  arrived  at  mature 
age,  the  consciousness  of  her  ignorance  makes  her  abscond 
from  the  sight  or  conversation  of  every  rational  creature. 
Her  ideas  are  narrowed  to  the  ordinary  subjects  that  pass 
before  her  :  the  business  of  the  plantation,  the  tittle-tattle 
of  the  parish,  the  tricks,  superstitions,  diversions,  and 
profligate  discourses  of  the  black  servants,  equally  illiterate 
and  unpolished.  .  .  . 


APPENDIX.  443 

"  Whilst  (he  adds)  I  render  all  praise  to  the  Creole  ladies 
for  their  many  amiable  qualities,  impartiality  forbids  me  to 
suppress  what  is  highly  to  their  discredit.  I  mean  their 
disdaining  to  nurse  their  own  offspring.  .  .  .  Numberless 
have  been  the  poor  little  victims  to  this  pernicious 
custom.  ..." 

IV. 

1778.  December.  A  most  sanguinary  contest  between 
the  French  and  the  English  took  place  in  the  island  of  St. 
Lucia  ;  the  cannonading  must  have  been  heard  at  Martin- 
ique ....  "The  English  sailed  to  the  attack  from  Barba- 
does,  and  had  nearly  reduced  the  forts.  The  last  French 
flag  in  sight  among  the  hills  was  not  struck,  when  M. 
d'Estaing,  with  a  large  force,  hove  in  sight.  Besides  his 
original  squadron  of  12  heavy  line-of -battle  ships,  he  was 
accompanied  by  a  numerous  fleet  of  frigates,  privateers,  and 
transports,  with  9,000  troops  on  board.  As  the  day  was 
far  advanced,  d'Estaing  deferred  his  operations  until  the 
following  morning.  .  .  .  The  British  General,  Meadows,  was 
in  possession  of  very  strong  ground  ;  and  his  men,  though 
only  1,300  in  number,  were  veteran  troops,  who  had 
distinguished  themselves  in  America.  .  .  .  The  French  com- 
mander determined  to  attack  the  peninsula  by  sea  and 
land  at  the  same  time,  and  about  5,000  of  their  troops 
advanced,  led  by  the  Count  d'Estaing,  and  the  Marquis  de 
Bouille,  the  governor  of  Martinico.  The  remainder  of  the 
troops  were  kept  to  watch  General  Prescott's  brigade,  and 
to  check  any  attempt  that  might  be  made  to  succor  General 
Meadows.  .  .  .  On  the  approach  of  the  columns  they  were 
enfiladed  with  great  effect,  by  the  batteries  on  the  south  of 
the  bay.  Notwithstanding  this,  they  charged  with  great 
impetuosity,  and  were  suffered  to  advance  close  to  the 
entrenchment  when  the  British  line  fired  but  once  and  then 
received  the  enemy  on  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  The  French , 


444  APPENDIX. 

with  great  resolution,  suffered  extremely  before  they  were 
entirely  repulsed.  As  soon  as  they  could  be  formed  again, 
the  attack  was  renewed  ;  they  were  again  repulsed  ;  and 
again,  the  third  time,  they  returned  to  the  charge.  But  the 
affair  was  soon  decided  :  they  were  totally  broken,  and 
retired  in  the  utmost  disorder,  leaving  their  dead  and 
wounded  on  the  field,  400  killed  and  1,100  wounded,  a 
number  considerably  superior  to  the  enemy  they  had  attacked. 

M.  d'Estaing  having  rendered  himself  accountable  for  the 
wounded  as  prisoners  of  war,  he  was  allowed  to  have  them, 
and  to  bury  the  dead.  He  remained  for  ten  days  afterwards, 
upon  the  island,  without  making  any  further  attempt  by 
sea  or  by  land.  On  the  28th,  he  embarked  his  troops,  and 
on  the  day  following  abandoned  the  island.  Before  he  was 
out  of  sight,  the  Chevalier  de  Micoud  and  the  principal  in- 
habitants offered  to  capitulate,  arid  very  favorable  terms 
were  granted  them.  The  commandant  and  garrison  were 
sent  to  Martinique  as  prisoners  of  war  to  be  exchanged, 
without  their  arms,  and  on  parole.  .  .  . 

Soon  after  Count  d'Estaing  had  been  repulsed  from  St. 
Lucia,  Admiral  Byron  arrived  in  the  West  Indies,  with 
such  reinforcements  as  gave  the  English  fleet  the  superiority, 
and  which  determined  the  commander  to  attempt  the 
blockade  of  Fort  Royal,  where  the  French  ships  had 
rendezvoused. 

But  as  a  large  English  convoy  was  then  ready  to  sail  for 
England,  Admiral  Byron  sailed  part  way  with  it,  with  his 
fleet  ;  the  result  being  the  capture  of  St.  Vincent  and  Gra- 
nada, by  the  French  under  D'Estaing.  .  .  . 

It  was  now  considered  impossible  to  oppose  M.  d'Estaing, 
and  a  general  panic  spread  through  all  the  British  islands. 
The  French  admiral,  however,  contented  himself  with  re- 
turning the  visits  he  had  formerly  received  at  Martinico,  by 
parading  for  a  whole  day  in  sight  of  St.  Christopher's.  He 
afterwards  waited  to  see  the  French  homeward-bound 


APPENDIX.  445 

West-India  convoy  clear  of  danger,  and  then  proceeded, 
with  about  22  sail-of-the-line  and  10  frigates,  to  the  coast  of 
North  America." 

This  was  doubtless  the  fleet  in  which  Josephine  sailed  for 
France  in  1779,  and  after  this  attention  unwittingly  be- 
stowed upon  the  future  Empress  of  the  French,  the  gallant 
admiral  sailed  to  the  assistance  of  the  Americans. 

1780 — Rodney's  engagement  with  the  French  Admiral 
Guichen,  off  Fort  Royal.  .  .  .  Sir  G.  B.  Rodney's  letter  to 
the  Admiralty.  .  .  . 

"  SANDWICH,  FOKT  ROYAL  BAY,  MAETINICO,  April  26,  1780. 

' '  Since  acquainting  their  lordships  of  my  arrival  at  Bar- 
badoes  and  Saint  Lucia,  and  taking  upon  me  the  command 
of  his  Majesty's  ships  in  that  station,  the  enemy,  who  had 
paraded  for  several  days  before  St.  Lucia,  with  25  ships  of 
the  line,  and  8  frigates  full  of  troops,  and  were  in  hopes 
of  surprising  the  island,  were  disappointed  in  their  views 
by  the  good  disposition  of  the  troops  by  General  Vaughan, 
and  of  the  ships  by  Rear- Admiral  Parker.  They  retired 
into  Fort  Royal  Bay,  a  few  hours  before  my  arrival  at 
Gros-Ilet  Bay,  on  the  27th  of  March. 

"As  soon  as  the  fleet  could  be  possibly  got  ready,  I  de- 
termined to  return  their  visit,  and  offer  them  battle  ;  and 
accordingly,  on  the  2d  of  April,  proceeded  with  the  whole 
fleet  off  Fort  Royal  Bay,  where  for  two  days  I  offered  the 
enemy  battle ;  the  fleet  being  near  enough  to  count  their 
guns,  and  at  times  within  random-shot  of  some  of  their  forts. 
M.  de  Guichen,  notwithstanding  his  superior  numbers, 
chose  to  remain  in  port.  ...  In  this  situation  both  fleets 
remained  till  the  15th  inst.,  when  the  enemy,  with  their 
whole  force,  put  to  sea  in  the  middle  of  the  night ;  immedi- 
ate notice  of  which  being  given  me,  I  followed  them  ;  and 
having  looked  into  Fort  Royal  Bay,  and  the  road  of  St. 
Pierre,  on  the  16th  we  got  sight  of  them,  about  eight  leagues  to 
the  leeward  of  Pearl  Rock.  A  general  chase  to  the  N.  W. 


446  APPENDIX. 

followed,  and  at  five  in  the  evening  we  plainly  discovered 
that  they  consisted  of  23  sail-of-the-line,  one  50  gun-ship, 
3  frigates,  a  lugger  and  a  cutter.  .  .  .  When  night  came 
I  found  the  fleet  in  line-of -battle  ahead,  and  ordered  the 
' '  Venus  "  and  ' '  Greyhound  "  to  keep  between  his  Majesty's 
and  the  enemy's  fleet,  to  watch  their  motions,  which  was  ad- 
mirably well  done  by  that  good  and  veteran  officer,  Captain 
Ferguson.  The  maneuvers  of  the  enemy  during  the  night 
indicated  a  wish  to  avoid  battle  ;  but  I  was  determined  they 
should  not,  and  therefore  counteracted  all  their  motions.  .  .  . 
"  At  eleven,  next  morning,  I  made  the  signal  to  prepare  for 
battle,  and  at  eleven-fifty  the  signal  for  every  ship  to  bear 
down  and  steer  for  her  opposite  in  the  enemy's  line,  agree- 
ably to  the  21st  article  of  the  additional  fighting  instruc- 
tions. Five  minutes  later  I  made  the  signal  for  battle  ;  a 
few  minutes  after,  the  signal  that  it  was  my  intention  to 
engage  close,  and  of  course  the  Admiral's  ship  to  be  the 
example.  A  few  minutes  before  one  P.  M. ,  one  of  the  head- 
most ships  began  the  action  ;  atone,  the  "Sandwich,  "in  the 
center,  after  having  received  several  fires  from  the  enemy, 
began  to  engage.  I  repeated  the  signal  for  close  action.  The 
action  in  the  center  continued  till  four,  when  M.  Guichen, 
in  the  ' '  Couronne, "  in  which  they  had  mounted  ninety  guns, 
the  "  Triumphant "  and  the  "Fendant,"  after  engaging  the 
•'Sandwich  "  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  bore  away.  .  ..  At  the 
conclusion  of  the  battle,  the  enemy  may  be  said  to  be  com- 
pletely beaten  ;  but  such  was  the  distance  of  the  van  from 
the  rear,  and  the  crippled  condition  of  several  ships,  partic- 
ularly of  the  "  Sandwich,"  which  for  twenty-four  hours  was 
with  difficulty  kept  above  water,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
pursue  them  that  night  without  the  greatest  disadvan- 
tage. ...  To  prevent  the  risk  of  another  action  they  took 
shelter  under  Guadeloupe.  ...  As  I  found  it  was  in  vain 
to  follow  them,  with  his  Majesty's  fleet  in  the  condition  they 
were  in,  and  every  motion  of  the  enemy  indicating  their 


APPENDIX.  447 

intention  of  getting  into  Fort-Royal  Bay,  Martinico,  where 
alone  they  could  repair  their  shattered  fleet,  I  thought  the 
only  chance  of  bringing  them  to  action  again  was  to  be  off 
Fort  Royal  before  them,  where  the  fleet  under  my  command 
now  is,  in  daily  expectation  of  their  arrival.  .  .  . 

' '  I  cannot  conclude  without  acquainting  their  lordships 
that  the  French  admiral,  who  appeared  to  be  a  brave  and 
gallant  officer,  had  the  honor  to  be  nobly  supported  during 
the  whole  action.  "  G.  B.  RODNEY." 

In  this  action  120  men  were  killed  and  353  wounded 
on  board  the  English  fleet.  Admiral  Rodney's  action  was 
indecisive,  as  much  from  the  plan  of  attack  ordered,  as  he 
says,  by  the  21st  article  of  the  additional  fighting  instruc- 
tions, as  from  any  other  reason.  The  improved  plan  of 
attack,  which  Nelson  adopted  at  Trafalgar,  was  not  then 
used.  .  .  . 

This  battle  had  an  important  bearing  upon  operations  in 
America,  it  would  seem,  for  "  M.  de  Guichen's  fleet  was  so 
disabled  by  its  service  in  the  West  Indies,  that  instead  of 
proceeding  to  North  America,  as  was  intended,  he  made 
the  best  of  his  way  with  a  convoy  to  Cadiz,  to  the  great 
disappointment  of  General  Washington." 

Admiral  Rodney,  being  aware  of  the  enemy's  designs 
against  New  York,  as  soon  as  he  had  received  certain  infor- 
mation of  de  Guichen's  departure,  himself  sailed  immediately 
with  eleven  sail-of-the-line  and  four  frigates,  to  New  York, 
and  thus,  in  all  probability  saved  his  fleet  from  being 
disabled  by  the  hurricane  which  did  such  tremendous 
damage  among  the  islands. 

V. 

1775.  "  The  sympathy  of  the  West  Indian  colonists  with 
the  revolutionary  movement  in  America,  is  well  illustrated 
by  the  petition  of  the  Assembly  of  Jamaica,  to  his  Majesty 


448  APPENDIX. 

in  favor  of  the  Americans.  After  professing  the  greatest 
loyalty  to  the  mother  country,  they  declare  that  the  most 
dreadful  calamities  to  their  island,  and  the  inevitable 
destruction  of  the  small  sugar  colonies,  must  follow  the 
present  unnatural  contest  with  the  Americans.  They 
denied  that  their  ancestors,  the  settlers  or  conquerors  of 
the  colonies,  could  receive  any  rights  or  privileges  from 
their  fellow-subjects  in  England,  at  the  time  of  their 
immigration ;  the  peers  could  not  communicate  their 
privileges,  and  the  people  had  no  rights  but  those  of 
which  the  former  were  equally  possessed  ;  but  the  Crown, 
whose  prerogatives  were  totally  independent  of  both  for 
the  great  purposes  of  colonization,  communicated  to  all  the 
colonies,  though  in  different  degrees,  a  liberal  share  of  its 
own  royal  powers  of  government.  These  powers,  as  well 
as  their  original  rights  and  privileges,  had  been  confirmed 
to  them,  by  every  means  which  could  be  devised  for 
affording  security  to  mankind  :  charters,  proclamations, 
prescription,  compact,  protection,  and  obedience.  From 
these  and  other  premises,  the  petitioners  declare  that  the 
colonists  are  not  the  subjects  of  the  people  of  England,  and 
insist  that  they  have  their  own  rights  of  legislation  ;  they 
deplore,  and  behold  with  amazement,  a  plan  almost  carried 
into  execution,  for  reducing  the  colonies  into  an  abject 
state  of  slavery  ;  and  they  demand  and  claim  from  the 
sovereign,  as  the  guarantee  of  their  just  rights,  that  no  law 
shall  be  forced  upon  them  injurious  to  their  rights,  as 
colonists  or  Englishmen  ;  and  that,  as  the  common  parent 
of  his  people,  his  Majesty  would  become  a  mediator  between 
his  European  and  American  subjects. 

"  The  West  Indian  planters,  in  a  petition  to  the  House  of 
Commons,  stated  that  British  property  then  in  the  West 
Indies  amounted  to  upwards  of  $150,000,000  ;  that  a  further 
property  of  many  millions  was  employed  in  the  commerce 
created  by  the  said  islands  ;  and  that  the  whole  produce 


APPENDIX.  449 

ultimately  centered  in  Great  Britain.  They  showed  that  the 
sugar  plantations  were  necessarily  dependent  upon  external 
support,  and  that  the  profits  arising  from  the  island  in  a 
great  measure  depended  on  a  free  intercourse  with  North 
America,  from  whence  they  were  furnished  with  the 
necessaries  for  the  maintenance  of  their  plantations." 

This  feeling  of  sympathy  was  universal  throughout  the 
West  Indies,  the  trade  of  which  was  extensive  with  the 
American  colonies. 

An  instance  of  the  manner  in  which  England  took 
reprisal  for  an  alleged  violation  of  the  laws  of  neutrality,  is 
given  in  the  history  of  the  island  of  St.  Eustatius,  belonging 
to  the  Dutch.  In  1777,  Sir  Joseph  Yorke,  the  English 
ambassador  at  the  Hague,  delivered  a  memorial  to  the 
States-General,  in  which  he  declared  that  the  King,  his 
master,  had  borne  with  unexampled  patience  the  irregular 
conduct  of  the  subjects  of  their  High-Mightinesses,  in  their 
colony  of  St.  Eustatia,  which  was  carrying  on  an  illicit 
trade  with  America.  He  stated  that  the  governor  of  St. 
Eustatia,  M.  Van  Graaf,  had  permitted  the  seizure  of  an 
English  vessel  by  an  American  privateer,  within  cannon- 
shot  of  the  island  ;  and  that  he  had  returned,  from  the 
fortress  of  his  government,  the  salute  of  a  rebel  flag.  .  .  . 

(This  is  said  on  good  authority,  to  have  been  the  first 
salute  paid  the  American  flag  in  a  foreign  port.) 

Therefore,  in  his  Majesty's  name,  and  by  his  express 
order,  he  demanded  from  their  High-Mightinesses  a  formal 
disavowal  of  the  salute  by  Fort  Orange,  at  St.  Eustatia,  to 
the  rebel  ship,  and  the  immediate  recall  of  the  governor. 

The  States  answered  by  a  counter  memorial,  complaining 
of  the  menacing  tone  of  the  English  court,  and  disavowing, 
in  the  most  express  manner,  any  act  or  mark  of  honor, 
which  may  have  been  given  by  their  officers  to  any  vessels 
belonging  to  the  colonies  of  America,  so  far  as  it  might 
have  implied  a  recognition  of  American  independence. 
29 


450  APPENDIX. 

The  English  ministry  said  they  were  satisfied  with  this, 
yet,  the  English  manifesto  against  Holland,  dated  December 
20th,  1780,  contained  the  following  assertion  :  .  .  .  "In 
the  West  Indies,  particularly  at  St.  Eustatius,  every 
protection  and  assistance  has  been  given  to  our  rebellious 
subjects.  Their  privateers  are  openly  received  into  the 
Dutch  harbors,  allowed  to  refit  there,  supplied  with  arms 
and  ammunition,  their  crews  recruited,  their  prizes  bought 
in  and  sold  ;  and  all  this  in  violation  of  as  clear  and  solemn 
stipulation  as  can  be  made.  This  conduct,  so  inconsistent 
with  all  good  faith,  so  repugnant  to  the  wisest  part  of  the 
Dutch  nation,  is  chiefly  to  be  ascribed  to  the  prevalence 
of  the  leading  merchants  of  Amsterdam,  whose  secret 
correspondence  with  our  rebellious  subject  was  suspected 
long  before  it  was  made  known  by  the  fortunate  discovery 
of  a  treaty  with  them,  signed  in  September,  1778."  .  .  . 

The  ninth  of  August,  preceding,  an  English  squadron  had 
seized  some  American  vessels  under  the  fort  of  St.  Martin's, 
and  threatened  to  destroy  the  town  if  the  Dutch  made  any 
resistance.  The  States-General  protested  solemnly  against 
this  violation  of  their  territory,  and  desired  full  satis- 
faction. .  .  . 

The  next  link  in  this  chain  of  events,  was  forged  by  Sir 
George  Rodney,  who  returned  from  New  York  with  his 
squadron,  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1780.  This  rapacious 
sea-dog  had  long  had  his  eye  upon  the  rich  island  of  St. 
Eustatius,  and  in  February,  1781,  he  and  General  Vaughan 
appeared  before  it,  with  a  summons  to  the  governor  to 
surrender.  M.  de  Graaf,  the  governor,  was  then  ignorant 
of  the  rupture  between  England  and  Holland,  and  at  first 
could  not  believe  that  the  officer  who  carried  the  summons 
was  serious  ;  but  he  answered,  that  being  incapable  of 
making  any  defense,  against  such  a  force,  he  must  of 
necessity  surrender  it ;  only  recommending  the  inhabitants 
to  the  known  and  usual  clemency  of  British  commanders. 


APPENDIX.  451 

The  value  of  the  plunder  amounted  to  above  $15,000,000, 
which  Rodney  confiscated  to  the  crown.  This  was  exclusive 
of  the  shipping  then  in  port,  some  250  sail,  many  richly 
laden,  a  Dutch  38-gun  frigate,  and  five  smaller  vessels  of 
war.  All  the  magazines  were  bursting  with  stores,  and 
even  the  beach  covered  with  tobacco  and  sugar. 

It  was  claimed  by  Rodney,  in  his  defense  for  attacking  a 
defenseless  island  before  the  government  was  aware  of  the 
beginning  of  hostilities,  that  it  was  a  nest  of  smugglers  and 
privateers,  and  that  the  American  war  would  have  long 
since  been  terminated  if  the  rebels  had  not  received 
assistance  from  this  same  island  of  St.  Eustatius.  General 
Vaughan  wrote,  on  the  7th  of  February,  "We  took 
possession  of  at  least  3,000,000  pounds  sterling  of  money.  .  .  . 
We  have  continued  the  Dutch  flag,  which  answers  extremely 
well,  as  there  have  been  no  less  than  17  ships  come  into  the 
port  since  it  was  captured." 

"  Except  for  warlike  stores,  St.  Eustatius  became  one  of 
the  greatest  auctions  that  was  ever  opened  in  the  universe. 
Invitation  was  given  and  protection  afforded  to  purchasers 
of  all  nations,  and  of  all  sorts.  Never  was  a  better  market 
for  buyers." 

But  the  inhabitants  were  entirely  ruined.  The  island 
has  never  recovered  from  this  base  attack  ;  to-day  its 
ruins  testify  to  the  complete  devastation  at  the  hands  of 
Rodney  and  Vaughan. 

In  this  manner  had  England  wreaked  her  revenge  upon 
another  nation  for  its  alleged  part  in  the  defense  of  the 
American  colonies. 

Defeated  in  America,  her  fleets  resorted  to  the  West 
Indies,  where  they  vented  the  spleen  of  their  commanders 
first  upon  the  Dutch  and  then  the  French. 

At  this  time  the  Count  de  Grasse  was  expected  in  the 
West-Indies,  with  a  large  fleet,  and  in  April  the  British 
squadron  under  Sir  Samuel  Hood  fell  in  with  the  French, 


452  APPENDIX. 

off  Martinique.  But  the  French  Admiral  avoided  an  engage- 
ment and  preserved  his  forces  for  the  capture  of  Tobago, 
which  soon  followed. 

The  ever-alert  governor-general  of  the  French  Antilles, 
the  Marquis  de  Bouille,  learning  that  St.  Eustatius  was 
feebly  garrisoned  by  its  British  conquerors,  hastily  invaded 
and  captured  it,  without  the  loss  of  a  man.*  The  French 
restored  to  the  Dutch  governor  his  own  private  property, 
and  confiscated  some  2,000,000  francs,  said  to  have  been 
appropriated  by  Admiral  Rodney  and  General  Vaughan. 
Saba  and  St.  Bartholomew  also  fell  to  the  French,  and 
later,  St.  Christopher's,  the  activity  and  energy  of  Bouille 
and  De  Grasse  proving  more  than  the  English  could  suc- 
cessfully combat. 

The  reprehensible  conduct  of  Rodney  and  Vaughan  were 
brought  to  the  notice  of  the  British  Parliament,  and  made 
a  subject  of  official  inquiry.  Mr.  Burke  moved  that  their 

*Bouilld,  Francois  Claude  Amour,  Marquis  de,  French  general, 
born  Nov.  19, 1739.  "Distinguished  himself  in  the  Seven  Years'  War, 
was  appointed  governor  of  Guadeloupe  in  1768,  and  at  the  beginning  of 
the  American  war  of  independence  was  governor-general  of  the  French 
West  Indies.  He  not  only  preserved  them  to  his  country,  but  took 
several  others  from  the  English,  fighting  with  constant  and  desperate 
valor.  At  the  same  time  he  displayed  such  magnanimity  that,  on  visit- 
ing England,  at  the  conclusion  of  peace,  he  was  received  with  admi- 
ration. In  the  first  years  of  the  revolution  he  was  in  command  of  the 
eastern  military  division  of  France,  and  ably  contended  with  great 
difficulties  arising  from  the  rebellious  disposition  of  the  popu- 
lation and  the  mutinous  spirit  of  the  troops.  When  Louis 
XVI.  projected  his  flight  from  France,  he  consulted  Bouille",  who 
entered  into  the  plan  and  made  all  the  necessary  preparations  ;  but 
which  were  rendered  futile  by  the  arrest  of  the  king  at  Varennes 
(June  21,  1791).  Bouilld  fled  from  France,  and  went  afterwards  to 
Russia,  later  to  England,  where  he  wrote  his  Memoires  sur  la  Revo- 
lution Franqaise  ;  London,  1797  ;  first  published  in  French,  1801.  He 
died  Nov.  14th,  1800." 


APPENDIX.  453 

actions  were  dishonest  ;  but  his  motion  was  rejected,  by  a, 
vote  of  163  89. 

The  fleets  of  the  French  and  English  admirals  chased 
each  other  to  and  fro  across  the  Atlantic,  now  in  the  West 
Indies,  now  on  the  coast  of  North  America.  In  June,  the 
Marquis  de  Bouill6  and  Count  de  Grasse  united  in  an  ex- 
pedition to  Tobago,  which  island  they  captured  with  little 
loss,  while  Rodney's  fleet  was  at  Barbados,  within  twenty- 
four  hours'  sail.  The  Count  afterwards  sailed  for  America, 
and  his  participation  in  the  affairs  at  Yorktown  is  a  matter 
of  history  universally  known.  The  French  contributed  to 
that  memorable  investment  by  which  Cornwallis  was  forced 
to  surrender,  and  the  British  arms  suffered  permanent  de- 
feat on  American  soil,  37  ships  and  7,000  men.  The  last 
of  November  he  arrived  in  the  West-Indies,  and  it  was  in 
anticipation  of  this  event  that  Rear-Admiral  Hood  left 
Sandy-Hook,  on  the  llth  November,  arriving  at  Barbados 
the  5th  of  December,  with  17  sail  of  the  line. 

1782. — In  January,  the  Marquis  de  Bouille,  landed  at  St. 
Christopher's,  with  8,000  men,  supported  by  de  Grasse  with 
29  sail  of  the  line.  After  the  French  troops  had  effected  a 
landing,  the  Count  was  attacked  by  Sir  Samuel  Hood,  and 
a  desperate  naval  battle  ensued,  in  which  the  advantage 
remained  with  the  French.  Sir  Samuel  withdrew  his  fleet 
to  Barbados,  and  the  French  effected  the  conquest  of  the 
island.  The  near  islands  of  Nevis  and  Montserrat  shared 
in  the  downfall  of  St.  Christopher's,  and,  of  all  the  British 
possessions  in  the  Antilles,  at  the  opening  of  the  year  1782, 
but  three  islands,  Antigua,  Barbados  and  Jamaica,  re- 
mained to  them. 

It  was  a  critical  time  ;  the  supremacy  of  Britain  in  the 
West-Indies  was  in  danger  of  being  wrested  from  her, 
through  the  bravery  and  activity  of  the  Marquis  de  Bouille 
and  the  Count  de  Grasse.  Only  by  a  supreme  effort,  and 


454  APPENDIX. 

by  means  of  one  of  the  greatest  naval  battles  of  the  century, 
was  her  prestige  restored, 

The  Naval  Battle  between  Rodney  and  the  Count  de 
Grasse. — Sir  George  Rodney,  with  12  sail  of  the  line,  arrived 
at  Barbados,  the  19th  of  February  ;  Admiral  Hood  three 
days  later,  and  also  three  sail  of  the  line  from  England. 
This  made  Rodney's  fleet  to  consist  of  36  sail  of  the  line, 
with  which  he  cruised  to  windward  of  the  French  islands, 
hoping  to  intercept  an  expected  convoy  from  France. 

The  convoy  escaped  and  arrived  safely  at  Fort  Royal,  so 
Rodney  returned  to  Gros-Ilet  Bay,  St.  Lucia,  to  water  his 
fleet  and  refit. 

In  Fort  Royal  Bay,  across  the  channel,  in  Martinique, 
was  the  fleet  of  Count  de  Grasse,  consisting  of  34  sail  of  the 
line,  including  the  magnificent  "  Ville  de  Paris,"  of  110  guns, 
his  flag-ship  ;  two  fifty-gun  ships  and  13  frigates. 

At  daybreak  on  the  8th  of  April,  the  French  fleet,  with  a 
large  convoy  under  its  protection,  sailed  out  of  Fort-Royal, 
with  the  intention  of  forming  a  junction  with  the  Spanish 
fleet  at  Hispaniola  and  Cuba. 

The  object  of  their  destination  and  attack  was  Jamaica, 
and  aboard  the  fleet  were  5,500  troops. 

Rodney,  on  the  alert  for  the  enemy,  at  once  sailed  in  pur- 
suit, and  just  before  nightfall  sighted  them  under  the  island 
of  Dominica.  At  daylight  next  morning,  the  English  fleet 
was  becalmed  under  that  island,  but  the  morning  breeze 
soon  enabled  the  van  of  the  fleet  to  close  with  the  French 
center.  The  action  was  commenced  about  nine,  by  Captain 
Burnet  in  the  "Royal  Oak,"  seconded  by  the  ''Alfred," 
and  the  "Montague.".  .  .  Then  began,  on  the  morning  of  the 
ninth  of  April,  that  decisive  and  most  sanguinary  battle, 
which  decided  the  fate  of  the  French  in  the  Antilles.  .  .  .  The 
whole  division  was  soon  engaged.  The  British  van  brought 
to,  that  it  might  not  be  too  far  separated  from  the  rest  of 
the  fleet ;  but  the  French  kept  under  sail,  and  when  they 


APPENDIX.  455 

had  passed  the  foremost  of  their  opponents  tacked,  in  suc- 
cession, and  formed  again  in  the  rear,  continuing  this  mode 
of  attack.  Thus  eight  sail  of  the  British  were  engaged  by 
fifteen  of  the  enemy,  until  the  center  were  able  to  come  into 
the  action.  Sir  George  Rodney,  with  his  seconds,  the 
"Namur,"and  the  "Duke,"  all  ninety -gun  ships,  obliged  de 
Grasse  to  keep  at  a  greater  distance  during  the  remainder 
of  the  engagement,  which  continued  for  nearly  two  hours 
afterwards.  About  twelve,  de  Grasse  stood  off  to  windward 
and  two  of  his  fleet  were  obliged  to  put  into  Guadeloupe. 
That  night  the  English  fleet  lay  to,  to  repair  damages,  and 
the  next  day  both  fleets  kept  turning  to  windward,  in  the 
channel  between  Dominica  and  Guadeloupe. 

On  the  eleventh  the  enemy  had  weathered  the  island  of 
Guadeloupe,  and  might  have  escaped,  had  not  two  of  the 
disabled  ships  fallen  astern,  and  de  Grasse  gallantly 
borne  down  with  his  whole  fleet  to  their  assistance.  This 
rendered  a  general  attack  unavoidable,  and  both  fleets  were 
kept  in  close  order  during  the  night.  .  .  .  About  seven 
next  morning,  the  hostile  fleets  met  on  opposite  tacks. 
Admiral  Drake's  division  led  into  action  ;  the  English  ships 
ranging  slowly  up  and  closely  under  the  enemy's  lee,  so 
that  every  shot  told  with  terrible  effect.  About  noon,  of 
the  twelfth,  Rodney,  in  the  "Formidable,"  with  the 
"Namur,"  "Duke,"  and  "Canada,"  bore  directly,  with 
all  sail,  athwart  the  enemy's  line,  and  broke  through  it, 
about  three  ships  from  the  center,  where  de  Grasse  com- 
manded, in  the  "  Ville  de  Paris."  Then  Rodney,  followed 
by  the  ships  astern  of  his  division,  wore  short  around ;  thus 
doubling  upon  the  enemy,  and  closing  up  with  their  center, 
completed  the  separation  of  the  line,  and  decided  the  fort- 
une of  the  day.  At  the  time  Rodney  wore,  he  made  the- 
signal  for  the  van  to  tack,  which  was  immediately  done  by 
Admiral  Drake.  The  French  van  bore  up,  endeavoring  to 


456  APPENDIX. 

form  their  broken  line  ;  but  the  dismay  and  disorder  of 
their  rear  was  irretrievable. 

The  "  Ville  de  Paris,"  after  being  much  battered,  was 
closely  engaged  by  the  "  Canada,"  for  nearly  two  hours  ; 
but  would  not  strike,  until  the  "Barfleur,"  Sir  Samuel 
Hood,  came  up ;  her  she  engaged  for  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  ;  and  then,  at  sunset,  she  surrendered. 

When  the  "Ville  de  Paris,"  struck,  there  were  only  three 
unwounded  men  upon  her  upper  deck, — the  Count  de  Grasse 
was  one  of  the  three.  .  .  , 

The  French  fleet  was  reported  to  have  had  3,000  men 
killed  and  wounded.  On  board  the  "  Ville  de  Paris,"  alone 
400  were  said  to  have  been  killed.  Thirty-six  chests  of 
money  were  found  on  board  her.  This  great  ship  was 
a  present  from  the  city  of  Paris  to  Louis  XV.  and 
was  supposed  to  have  cost  176, 000  pounds  sterling  ;  she  was 
"  the  first  first-rate  man-of-war  ever  taken  and  carried  into 
port  by  any  commander  of  any  nation." 

Five  sail  of  the  French  line  were  taken,  but  the  most  of 
them  escaped,  owing  to  the  English  fleet  getting  becalmed 
under  the  lee  of  Guadeloupe.  .  .  .  The  English  loss  amounted 
to  250  killed  and  1050  wounded,  including  Capt.  Blair,  of 
the  "  Anson,"  Lord  Robert  Manners,  and  Capt.  Bayne  of 
the  "  Alfred."  The  whole  of  the  battering- cannon  and 
artillery  intended  for  the  attack  on  Jamaica  was  on  board 
the  captured  ships.  Had  the  Count  de  Grasse  succeeded  in 
joining  the  Spanish  fleet,  the  naval  force  of  the  two  crowns 
would  have  amounted  to  sixty  sail  of  the  line  upon  that 
station. 

Jamaica  was  saved,  the  back  of  the  French  fleet  broken, 
and  the  prizes  taken  into  the  harbor  of  Fort  Royal,  Jamaica. 
But  the  finest  of  the  prizes,  including  the  "  Ville  de  Paris," 
were  lost  in  a  terrible  gale,  in  the  summer  of  that  year, 
1782. 

The  brave  De  Grasse,  who  had  so  ably  assisted  the  Ameri- 


APPENDIX.  457 

cans,  and  .by  whose  active  co-operation,  Cornwallis  was  shut 
up  at  Yorktown,  the  year  previous,  was  made  captive  by 
the  English  admiral,  and  the  British  fleet  was  at  last  tri- 
umphant. 

He  survived  this  defeat  six  years,  and  died  in  January, 
1788. 

VI. 

Witchcraft :  — In  the  year  1657,  a  woman  was  burned  for 
witchcraft  who,  says  the  historian  Du  Tertre,  was  un- 
doubtedly guilty.  "For  it  was  proved  that  the  moment 
she  touched  children  against  whom  she  had  a  grudge,  they 
became  languid  and  died.  She  sent  a  sort  of  caterpillar  to 
the  houses  of  those  with  whom  she  quarrelled,  which  de- 
stroyed the  best  of  everything  they  had,  while  their  neigh- 
bors did  not  suffer  from  the  pest.  She  was  brought  before 
a  judge,  who  put  her  in  irons  and  examined  her  for  the 
marks  which  he  had  heard  the  devil  puts  upon  his  own  ; 
but  not  finding  such  he  delivered  her  into  the  hands  of  a 
surgeon  who  proceeded  to  apply  the  test  by  water,  said  to 
be  efficacious  in  Germany. 

"  They  carried  her  to  a  river  of  some  depth,  near  to  Carbet, 
where  they  stripped  her,  tied  her  thumbs  to  her  great  toes, 
and  having  fastened  a  rope  to  her  waist,  she  was  pushed 
into  the  water  and  hauled  to  the  deepest  part,  where  she 
floated  like  a  balloon,  without  their  being  able  to  sink  her, 
although  she  herself  made  several  efforts  to  go  to  the  bottom. 
More  than  two  hundred  persons  were  present  at  this  trial, 
and  would  have  gone  away  convinced  ;  but  her  tormentor 
sent  a  little  boy  to  swim  to  her,  who,  having  fastened  a 
sewing-needle  in  her  hair,  she  sank  like  lead  to  the  bottom, 
where  for  the  space  of  a  good  '•miserere,''  they  saw  her 
motionless.  Yet,  when  they  took  her  out  of  the  water,  they 
were  obliged  to  give  her  something  to  quench  her  thirst.  .  .  . 
These  three  circumstances  :  of  not  being  able  to  sink  without 


458  APPENDIX. 

a  little  bit  of  iron  attached,  and  of  being  under  water 
without  breathing,  and  without  swallowing  any  water, 
determined  the  judge  to  condemn  her  to  death  next  day. 
But  during  the  night  her  self -constituted  judge,  proceeding 
with  his  plan,  burnt  her  so  severely  upon  the  sides  and  flank, 
that  she  died  the  same  night,  without  having  confessed  the 
crime  of  which  she  was  accused." 


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